Harry Potter and the Emerald Sword
by Xarkun
Summary: My book 8. Voldemort constucted one last secret Horcrux and he is trying to return with it. Meanwhile Harry's children are starting another year at Hogwarts, Ginny and Harry are settling in to life, and Voldemort is plotting his return. Note DH spoilers.
1. Prologue

_**Welcome to, well this isn't my first fic, but it is here. If you check out my profile you'll see I have another account, I created this one specifically for HP fics. This is my first one. Hope you enjoy.**_

_**Summery: Takes place after DH. Lord Voldemort crafted only 6 Horcruxs, and one more unknowingly. But what if after Nagini, what if he made one more that was not destroyed? Odd things are happening now, Malfoy is no longer sending his son to school, in fact no Malfoy has been seen in public for quite sometime…. Harry who is now an Auror finds this odd, and even more so when Malfoy eventually becomes DADA teacher at Hogwarts and spends an increasing amount of time in his office and Moaning Myrtle's bathroom… will this turn out to be a repeat of HBP? What is Malfoy after in the Chamber of Secrets? More importantly, what is Voldemort after?**_

_**Note: **__**It's oblivious this will contain spoilers for Deathly Hallows!**__** Also I am changing the end of DH around in this prologue, Voldemort needs one Death Eater to survive and escape. Since I happen to like Bellatrix Lestrange… it's gonna be her.**_

_Harry Potter and the Emerald Sword_

_Chapter 1: Prologue_

Voldemort spun with ferocity, dueling three opponents simultaneously in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, while Bellatrix Lestrange fought off Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. Harry meanwhile crept past the gathering crowd hidden under the invisibility cloak as Voldemort's opponents were thrown back. At the end of the circle around the dark lord Harry threw off the cloak, revealing himself to Voldemort who growled viciously.

"You survived?!" Voldemort cried. Several shouts of awe issued from the crowd and for a moment all eyes were on him. This gave Bellatrix the chance to take out one of her opponents.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ the last of the Death Eaters shrieked loudly. All eyes, including those of Harry and Voldemort, fell upon her. Harry gasped as the jet of green light missed Ginny by inches. Then the loud, shrieking voice of Mrs. Weasley burst out of the crowd just as Harry was about to jinx Bellatrix in blind fury.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley cried madly, shoving her way through the crowd until she was in front of Bellatrix who cackled loudly and aimed her wand at the new opponent.

"AWAY!" Mrs. Weasly bellowed. "All of you, she's mine!"

Harry's attention directed to Voldemort as Mrs. Weasley began to madly shoot hexes, curses, and jinxes at the Dark Lord's last follower that had not been defeated.

"How?" Voldemort asked as the two began to circle one another. "How did you survive?"

"Don't you get it _Tom_?" Harry taunted.

"You dare!"

"Yes, I dare." Harry retorted, leaving Voldemort speechless. "When you used my blood to return from the dead my mother's protection went to you as well. You couldn't kill me!"

"But the wand…" Voldemort hissed, trailing off as he looked at the Elder Wand that had once belonged to Dumbledore in his pale white hand. The wand that was supposedly all powerful, one of the three Deathly Hallows.

"The wand won't work for you. Don't you get it?"

"Explain!" Voldemort cried, threatening to send a curse Harry's way. Several people drew their wands.

"No!" Harry shouted at them. "No one join in, this is between the two of us! Yes Tom, it won't work for you, you are not its true master."

"But Snape—"

"Snape was not its master either, don't you get it? He killed Dumbledore, but Malfoy disarmed him, and I defeated Malfoy. It doesn't matter that you killed Snape and took the wand. I reckon I'm its master now, _Tom_." Harry explained, doing his best to taunt Voldemort. He could almost sense the curse building; Voldemort's desire to kill was growing stronger, not much longer now….

"_You—dare!" _Voldemort growled in utter fury, not much longer….

"Yes, I _dare_!" Harry snapped once again. "Now Tom, let's try for a little remorse."

Neither Harry, Voldemort, nor anyone else in the crowd could believe the words had just come from his mouth. Everything became virtually silent for a moment, all that was heard were the sounds of Molly and Bellatrix throwing all the curses they could possibly summon at one another.

"Remorse…" Voldemort repeated.

"Yeah, remorse, regret what you have done Tom… give it at try."

Voldemort's red eyes widened in fury and surprise, never had there been such insolence…. Harry could see it coming now, the curse was practically on the tip of his tongue… it was almost time.

"You, Harry Potter, such insolence, you speak like your idol Dumbledore. Lord Voldemort has never seen suffered such humiliation!" the Dark Lord spat.

Harry could _feel _it in his very bones now, it was nearly—

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Voldemort's shriek pierced the air and echoed throughout the—

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Two jets of light, one scarlet like the blood of his parents, the other green, the color of his heritage, flew towards one another. The whoosh of death filled the air, disturbed by the sounds of curses fired by Bellatrix and Molly, and when both the streak of crimson and emerald collided the sound like a gunshot seemed to echo throughout the entire castle. Golden flame, like molten gold, erupted when the two spells collided. Voldemort sneered and growled in rage as Harry gritted his teeth. Then the Dark Lord's curse broke as the Elder Wand flew into the air, arching above the streaks of red and green lights and towards the outstretched hand of its true master. Harry caught it just as Voldemort's own killing curse flew into him as well as Harry's jinx. The Dark Lord's scarlet eyes widened, he took his last break, and then fell to the floor.

Bellatrix and Molly ceased their barrage of spells; everyone's eyes were on the pale, white body of Lord Voldemort. A black smoke began to pour from his open mouth, encasing the hall in darkness. No one would have known that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sprinted across it at that moment unless they had been madly shouting for their son. As quickly as the smoke had filled the room, it faded. The room erupted in emotional, choked cheering, and the scream of rage and terror from Bellatrix,

"YOU—FILTHY—SPAWN—OF—A—MUDBLOOD!" Bellatrix shrieked, aiming her wand at Harry.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ she bellowed, before spinning on the spot and Disapparating, the enchantments protecting the school broken, allowing her to pass. The streak of emerald light flew at Harry, McGonagall gave an involuntary squeak, everyone gasped with fear that their savior would be killed, but as Ginny Weasley's horrible, bloodcurdling yelp filled the air Harry ducked, the deadly curse overshot him, ruffling his jet black hair and missing him by an inch, if flew towards the wall, hit it, and blew out of giant chunk of stone. Cheering erupted once more. Voldemort was no more, vanquished, nothing more than a horrible white corpse on the floor of Hogwarts, and Harry was alive and well.

Savior of the Wizarding World.


	2. The Secret of the Malfoys

_Chapter 2: The Secret of the Malfoys_

_22 Years Later_

The Malfoy Mansion was quiet these days. Rarely was anyone spotted traversing its long, straight drive, past the hedges that line either side of it, nor was anyone seen outside on its grounds, tending to the gardens. The house was quiet and still by day, the same was true for night. Perhaps no one lived there at all. One who would walk along its fence and look up at the handsome manor might think so, the only clue there was that anyone whatsoever inhabited it was seen at night. Light poured from the windows at night, casting pale yellow glows across the dark grass and giving the place an air of a haunted house. Of course it was not haunted, but its residents were being held hostage.

On an unnaturally cool night near the end of summer and July, a light on the first floor flickered into existence. Inside sat five members of the Malfoy family, one stood before them, hands clutched behind his back. Narcissa Malfoy, her son Draco, his wife Pansy Parkinson Malfoy, and their child Scorpious all sat upon the black velvet sofa in the den of the mansion. Bellatrix Lestrange, aunt of Draco and sister of Narcissa, dressed in ebony robes was seated upon a reclining velvet chair, which was usually occupied by Lucius Malfoy who instead stood before all of them, his back turned.

Most everyone in the room looked similar, all were pale white, and had white-blonde hair, save for Narcissa and Lucius whose hair was now turning gray. However Bellatrix and Pansy differed, Bellatrix with her heavily lidded eyes and long black hair, which was just now starting to streak with gray, looked as though she was not even related to Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, or Scorpious. And Pansy, who was Draco's wife, was expected to differ so she was not so out of place.

All eyes were on Lucius, whose graying hair spread across his back, it looked like a beacon of light on his dark black robes. At his side, leaning against another black chair was his walking stick which concealed his new wand. The silver head of a serpent with two emeralds for eyes stood on top of it, attached to the wand. However another one protruded from the pocket of his robes, one made of yew with a phoenix feather core, the wand of Lord Voldemort.

Gazes flickered to the skinny Russian man who was spread across the large marble coffee table and seemed to be unconscious. The man gave a low groan as Lucius spun to face them all, his face was that of the younger Lucius Malfoy, not plagued with many wrinkles from old age; however his eyes were those of Lord Voldemort's. Blood red eyes, with slit like pupils they were. And when Lucius spoke it was not in his normal, smooth voice, but in that of Lord Voldemort's raspy, hissing, icy one.

"You, Narcissa," began Lucias, Voldemort's voice coming from his lips. "You do not look pleased with my presence in your home."

Narcissa did not answer. She merely met Voldemort's eyes for a fleeting second before looking away.

"Are you not still loyal to me?"

"I am loyal to you my lord." replied Narcissa quietly.

"What _lies _you tell, to the face of your husband but to the ears of Lord Voldemort, and Lord Voldemort knows, he always knows when he is being lied to."

Narcissa did not respond, she merely looked down at her lap helplessly, Bellatrix let out a quiet, hissing snicker.

"And you Draco," addressed Voldemort's voice. "I suppose your thoughts lie with your dead father. Tell me, why should Lucius have lived, his body is useful to me, at least until a regain my own. You Draco, Narcissa, were my loyal followers until Lucius failed me and he was punished. If it had not been for his… betrayal then you would still be my faithful servants!"

Again no one answered. Everyone except Bellatrix and the Russian man (who was unconscious) avoided Lucius's, or Voldemort's eyes.

"Alas, whether you wish to or not… you will serve me, or Bella and I will be forced to kill your grandson Narcissa, your son Draco, and then the rest of you. Do you wish that?"

"No," said Narcissa, Draco, and Pansy in unison.

"I thought not…. Lord Voldemort is a merciful man; I shall spare your grandson Narcissa, your son Draco, if you do as I ask, and once I have my Horcrux, once I have my body back… you will all be rid of me." said Voldemort. "What say you my dear Bella? Can you host an escape from Azkaban?"

"I can my lord Voldemort." Bellatrix hissed. "He has told me everything I need to know."

She pointed one of her long white fingers at the unconscious Russian man on the floor. Lucius's eyebrow cocked.

"Do you know who this is?" Voldemort's voice asked Narcissa, Draco, Pansy, and Scorpious.

They each gave a reply equivalent to no, mumbling other words.

"I trust your auntie Bellatrix can inform you Draco. I trust she can inform all of you."

"Yes, yes, of course." said Bellatrix in an emotional, accepting voice, as though a king had just asked her to marry his son. Bellatrix Lestrange extended her finger once more to point at the man. "Alexey Dashkov, works at Azkaban prison he does. He knows the best way to break out, the best way to bypass security since the dementors no longer guard it."

"And have you obtained your information my dear Bellatrix?" asked Voldemort.

"I have my Lord Voldemort." declared Bellatrix smugly, as though she had accomplished some great feat and proved herself worthy, and loyal to her master once more.

"Very good, wake our guest up then Bellatrix. I prefer to watch the light leave my victim's eyes before I kill them."

"Aren't you going to confide your plan to us my lord?" asked Pansy nervously.

"To _you_?" asked Voldemort's voice amused. "I don't see a reason that _you _need to be confided to Mrs. Malfoy, nor you Draco, nor you Narcissa. The only reason you still remain living is because you have grudgingly harbored me in your home, and because I might have some use for you."

"_Grudgingly_," mumbled Draco. "You're bloody well holding us hostage."

Lucius's hand drew Lord Voldemort's long yew wand and pointed it directly at Draco's chest. He hissed angrily, like his old pet snake Nagini, and if it was entirely possible Voldemort's eyes seemed to glow a brighter red.

"Young master Draco… such insolence toward Lord Voldemort. You may, perhaps, for lack of a better word be my host. But Lord Voldemort will not suffer such insolence from his hosts, no matter how their hospitality is. _Crucio_!"

Draco had no time. The Cruciatus Curse took immediate effect on him. He fell from the sofa and onto the lushly carpeted floor. He withered and cried out in agony, it felt as though a thousand white hot knives were being driven into every possible piece of his flesh. His wife and his child gasped, attempting to go and comfort him, though Lucius swept his hand menacingly as Voldemort would not allow it. The Dark Lord watched through the body of Lucius as Draco cried out from the torture, he allowed it to continue for a minute, a minute that dragged on for an eternity to Draco, Narcissa, Pansy, Scorupious, and Bellatrix (though she rather enjoyed it and giggled quite shrilly and cruelly). Finally Lucius's hand waved Voldemort's wand and the pain vanished. Draco pulled himself back onto the sofa, still shivering slightly from the torture.

"I trust there will be no more insolence Draco?" asked Voldemort through Lucius. Though it was more of a statement than it was a question, like a warning, sugar coated in a notice, like when a neighbor says 'excuse me, we will be having a very loud party tonight if you don't mind.'

"No," Draco mumbled.

"Good," hissed Voldemort. "Bellatrix, our guest must be awoken."

"Of course," said Bellatrix gleefully. She pointed her own wand and the Russian man, strewn across the coffee table and bit an incantation. _"Crucio!"_

Alexey Dashkov's eyelid flew back, revealing his dark brown eyes. He screamed at the top of his lungs and convulsed horribly as the Cruciatus Curse took hold of him again (Bellatrix had tortured him so extensively he was on the verge of madness). Voldemort's snakelike eyes watched from Lucius's eye sockets. Bellatrix let out shrieking, raucous, insane laughter.

"That's enough," said Voldemort quietly. Bellatrix looked up at him, a silent plea in her eyes to let the torturing continue. Voldemort's mind was set firm, however. With the wave of her a wand Dashkov's pain vanished. He took in deep, gulping breaths of air as though he had just surfaced from under water after an extending period of time. Scorpious looked from him, to Voldemort, to Bellatrix with fear in his young eyes, just as Dashkov looked into the face of Lucius, and the eyes of Voldemort with utter terror in his.

"Don't—don't kill me!" pleaded Dashkov. Voldemort chuckled coldly.

"You have caught me in a merciful mood." said the Dark Lord. In a flash of movement Lucius's hands yanked the silver serpent head off of his walking stick, revealing the wand it concealed. He tossed this wand to the defenseless Russian wizard who barely caught it, Bellatrix laughed horribly at this. "Defend yourself."

Dashkov, shaking visibly, got to his feet and glanced over Lucius Malfoy's wand which he slowly pointed at the old man's possessed body as though expecting to be killed the moment he aimed it. Lord Voldemort seemed to sense these thoughts.

"Oh no sir Dashkov, no, Lord Voldemort is not unfair. You will be given a fighting chance." hissed the Dark Lord's voice.

Dashkov audibly gulped and gazed at the wand, as if deciding which curse to employ. Lucius, controlled by Voldemort, simply stood there, the yew wand held at ease in his right hand, as though he was going to let Dashkov's curse hit him, or else did not think it worth his time to lift it into a defensive position. Finally Dashkov took one last look into the crimson snake eyes of Lord Voldemort before crying,

"_Impendimenta!"_

"_Protego."_ said Voldemort, Lucius lazily flicked the yew wand and a magical shield stopped the curse from hitting its target, it simply bounced off the barrier and flew towards a large window, shattering it on impact. Narcissa pointed her own wand at it and all the glass shards came together like a giant puzzle, blending seamlessly. No one took notice. Dashkov gasped as his curse flew away. He opened his mouth to utter another one but it was far too late.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Voldemort's voice snapped.

A jet of emerald light flew from the tip of the yew wand and hit Alexey Dashkov square in the chest. The Malfoys looked away at his body fell to the floor, staring into space. Bellatrix snickered lightly.

"Now," said Voldemort to Draco. "Dispose of that filthy mudblood, your son can assist you."

_**Of course how exactly Voldemort is possessing dead Lucius's body will eventually be revealed…. Also we may want to note that this is my interpretation of what would happen after Deathly Hallows, thus it WILL NOT follow what JKR has outlined happened to certain characters such as Umbridge, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, McGonagall, Slughorn… to name a few. And so if you have read what JKR has stated as happening after the books you'll notice some of this material conflicts with hers, most notably when I'll bring evil Umbridge in just to annoy people and get her butt kicked, this is intentional. Thank you, so no comments on how stuff differs please.**_


	3. Hogwarts Express

_Chapter 3: Hogwarts Express_

King's Cross Station had not changed at all since Harry remembered it, so many years ago when he attended Hogwarts. It was still bustling with hurried and harassed looking Muggle pedestrians, oblivious to the fact that the family of five hurriedly sprinting down the boarding platform between platforms nine and ten were in fact wizards. Harry Potter, his wife Ginny Weasley Potter, and their two sons and daughter, James Potter, Albus Severus Potter, and Lily Potter ran towards the solid stone barrier that led to platform nine and three quarters which the Hogwarts Express was eagerly waiting on to whisk the children away to the school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was now James's fifth year, and very important because of O.W.L exams, it was Albus's third year now and he was happy to be going back, able to see Hugo and Rose Weasley, daughter of Ron and Hermione. However this year marked Lily's eleventh birthday, she, on the other hand was completely petrified about the idea of attending Hogwarts, and at the same time was overwhelmingly excited.

She pushed her cart onward with quivering, sweaty hands and a heart thumping so loud that she expected her mother to stop her and ensure she was in good health. Ginny walked alongside her daughter to her left, Albus and James to her right, also pushing heavy metal carts full of school supplies, her father Harry was walking swiftly behind him. Since Harry had been raised by Muggles, namely Petunia and Vernon Dursley, he knew how to dress right, therefore he and his family blended in completely with the glum crowd. Today had started out as a gray, wet, and sticky morning ever since they left their home at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Their happy and friendly house elf, Kreacher had given them a weather report and it was not expected to clear up until night.

Lily's excitement and anxiousness grew as they approached the barrier. Many times she had witnessed her two brothers walk right through the solid wall, this year it was her turn.

"Are you alright Lily dear?" Ginny asked behind her. Harry couldn't help but notice how much Ginny was like her mother Molly during these times, always fussy and harassed as they seemed to have a usual last minute scramble ritual, just like in the old days….

"Yeah mum." Lily replied as they neared the barrier. Harry straightened his long sleeve T-shirt and prepared to cross onto the platform. He glanced around quickly for any sign of Ron or Hermione. He saw neither Ron's ginger hair, nor Hermione's bushy mane. Disappointed he turned back to face the barrier, James and Albus in front of him.

"Lily," said Harry.

"Yeah dad?" Lily asked, he could hear the mingled anxiousness in her voice.

"You first."

"Really?"

"Yeah, 'course, it's your first year. Tradition, when Al first started he went before through before James. I'll be right behind you. Ginny, you'll be okay with these two right?"

"'Course Harry," Ginny replied, smiling. She gave Lily a light pat on the back onward. Harry glanced around, ensuring no Muggles were watching, of course they were not, and even if they were he doubted they would notice anything. It was too gloomy out today and everyone's spirits were dampened, people were minding their own business, wanting to get it done as soon as possible. Harry winked at his ginger haired daughter, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for the run, and for going to Hogwarts.

"Help's a bit to get a running start." said a voice behind them. Harry spun promptly to see Hugo and Rose Weasley striding towards them. Ron and Hermione in step a few feet behind. Lily nodded to Rose, silently thanking her for the piece of advice.

"Great to see you Ron, Hermione." said Harry happily. Before he knew it Hermione's arms were wrapped around his neck, he hugged her back, not having seen her since the get together at the Burrow, or Ron for that matter.

"It's wonderful to see you too." said Hermione before pulling away, positively beaming. "You too Ginny."

"Well, I hate to break up the reunion mate, but it's five minutes to eleven." said Ron. Harry glanced at the clock in alarm, indeed it was. The train would be leaving in five minutes.

"Go on Lily." Harry told her. She took one last deep breath and ran straight for the wall, sliding right through it as though merely stepping into another room. No passerby's noticed a thing. In Harry's experience no Muggle noticed anything unless someone shot a stunning spell or something exploded. He gave a quick nod to Ron and Hermione and ran in after his daughter, the moment after he passed through the wall he found himself on platform nine and three quarters once more. The Hogwarts express before him, billowing out fluffy white smoke from its stack. James and Albus ran through the barrier next, followed by Ginny, Hugo, Rose, Ron, and finally Hermione. They each walked up to the nearest car, greeting other wizarding families along the way.

Finally they reached less crowded one, after giving their goodbyes Albus and James quickly boarded, followed by Rose and Hugo who were also in their third year just like Albus, apparently they got on well. As Harry was about to bid Lily goodbye Ron and Hermione stepped towards the Express. For a fleeting moment Harry thought Rose or Hugo had left something behind, however he realized the trunks they were carrying in their hands were in fact theirs. Confused Harry asked the obvious question,

"Where are you two going?"

"Oh!" cried Hermione in surprise. "You… didn't you get our letter?"

"What letter?"

"Sorry Harry!" Ginny cried in realization. "I got it; I forgot to tell you…"

"Tell me what?" asked Harry, still utterly confused.

"That we're teaching at Hogwarts mate, Hermione and I." said Ron.

"You never ran that by me!" snapped Harry irritably, Ron worked under him in the Auror office, in fact Harry was head.

"Well I thought Ginny would've told you." said Ron, giving his sister an angry look.

"Don't even try to blame this on me Ronald!" Ginny snapped. "It was an honest mistake."

"Never mind that," Harry began. "So what're you two teaching?"

"Arithmancy!" Hermione blurted out, clearly excited. Harry recalled back that it was one of her favorite subjects, still that didn't explain how she got the post. It seemed she sensed his next question. "Kingsley offered me the job! The professor teaching it before… dear I forgot her name, she retired early, I guess teaching was not for her."

Kingsley Shacklebolt of course was now Headmaster of Hogwarts School. He had been appointed so several years back, after his term as Minister ended, Professor McGonagall had originally taken over after Snape was killed, but she was not as young as she once had been, plus she could find no one to teach Transfiguration and she could not be both a Headmistress and a Transfiguration teacher, in fact it was Harry that recommended Kingsley be sent there as he thought the elderly Auror was just the man to do it, he was not as quick as he once was and Harry trusted him immensely, he had also sent the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher there, Avery Smith, another Auror.

"And what're you teaching Ron?" Harry asked, though he was sure he already knew. Poor Professor Flitwick had recently passed away.

"Charm's o' course!" Ron replied.

Harry never though Ron particularly good at Charms, though Kingsley had hired him so he must have been the right man for the job. Shacklebolt was not one to hire someone half perfect for a job, not matter how quick notice was.

"Congratulations then," said Harry. "Neville's going to be happy."

"Yeah, he's written us." said Hermione. "His poor owl is getting old though, and its eyesight is horrible, nearly died when it smacked into our window."

"Well bye Harry!" Ron said quickly as he glanced at the clock, two minutes to eleven. After exchanging brief farewells he and Hermione boarded the train and Harry turned back down to Lily.

"You ready?" he asked her.

"Uh-huh," she replied quietly, picking her stuff up off of the cart. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I hear Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom really pack the homework on, so don't worry if I forget to write."

"You're a first year, McGonagall and Neville will go easy on you. And if necessary I'll write to you. Now go on or you'll miss the train."

"Bye dad," said Lily, hugging him briefly and then turning to Ginny and doing the same. "Bye mum."

"Bye sweetheart," Ginny said as Lily boarded the train and the conductor called for all aboard.

"Bye Lily," said Harry as the chubby man closed the door, Lily waved to them both one last time before the train sped off into the distance. Both watched it until it turned the corner and flew out of sight, Harry glanced around as parents began to retreat from the platform; he was surprised he could not pick out Malfoy in the bunch. Come to think of it he had not seen his son Scorpious either. Marking it as slightly odd he put his arm around Ginny and both left the platform to Apparate back to Number Twelve.

XxX

It always seemed so crowed on the Hogwarts Express and so difficult to find somewhere empty! Albus paced the outside hall of one car, peeking in windows and desperately looking for an empty compartment, or at least one with someone he knew well in it, perhaps Hugo or Rose Weasley? His efforts proved futile, every single cabin in that one car was full to bursting point. Mostly groups of girls occupied them, about six or so to a cabin which was a tight squeeze, especially one car with a group of all Ravenclaws, they were in their fourth year and one was so large that she took up half of the seats, yet eight other girls had managed to stuff themselves in as well and they were all talking and giggling about some humorous thing Albus could not hear.

He let out a sigh of frustration before approaching the sliding crimson door which led directly into the next car, thankfully practicing magic was allowed on the Express these days, Albus pulled out his holly wand with a phoenix feather core and gave it a light swish whilst muttering an incantation, both doors flew open, he stepped lightly through the thresholds and into the next car, dragging his heavy trunk behind him. Praying he would get lucky he stepped up and peered through the window of the first compartment, two people occupied it, his best friends at Hogwarts, Hugo and Rose Weasley, daughter of his father's friends Ron and Hermione who were apparently teaching this year. Grinning broadly Albus let himself into the compartment, dragging his trunk in and shutting the door behind him.

"Hey Al," said Hugo, waving a hand at him. Albus's smile broadened even more as he hoisted his trunk up on the overhead racks. He took a seat next to Hugo, opposite of Rose who was buried in a book titled _Hogwarts, A History. _Albus distinctly remembered Ron remarking how like her mother Rose was, he could imagine his father Harry, Ron, and Hermione all in a car together like this, Hermione deep into a book and Ron and Harry conversing amongst themselves.

"It's good to see you Al." said Rose, peering over the cover of her book and smiling immensely.

"Good to see you too, Hugo, Rose." Albus replied. "You don't know how long it took me to find a compartment. They're so full of people; you should have seen Eloise Gibbons, that Ravenclaw fourth year girl."

"Oh yeah, that fat one?" Hugo asked with a hint of a chuckle.

"Hugo!" Rose snapped, sounding exactly like her mother. "You mustn't be so rude!"

"Oh put a sock in it Rose." Hugo snapped. "Go back to your reading."

Rose let out a muffled sigh of exasperation and continued to skim over the page of the history of Hogwarts, apparently wanting as little to do with Albus's and Hugo's conversation as possible.

"Well, go on." said Hugo, earning a dirty look from his sister.

"She took up half the bench and there were about eight other girls in there."

"No way, you'd have to use a shrinking charm just to get one girl in a car with Eloise!" Hugo cried earning not only another dirty look from Rose, but also a near kick to the shin.

Before Albus could give a clever insult to go along with Hugo's the door to their cabin flew open and another one of Albus's long time friends entered, shutting the door clumsily behind himself, he flipped his curly brown hair out of his bushy browed eyes and hoisted his own hand-me-down trunk onto the racks, nearly tripping over his untied shoelace he took a seat next to Rose.

Neville Longbottom, professor of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy had married Luna Lovegood, now senior editor of the magazine _Quibbler _since her father Xenophilius passed away. Together they had a child who they named Philius, he had taken on Neville's physical attributes, there was no bit of Luna Lovegood in his appearance, they may not even have been related, save for his eyes which were exactly his mother's.

"Hi Phil," said Al, using the nickname Philius Longbottom had been given.

"Hi Al, Hugo, Rose."

"Hey Phil," both Rose and Hugo said in unison.

"How's your summer been?" asked Hugo.

"We haven't really done anything, dad's been growing some mandrakes so I had to help him repot those a couple of times. Can't stand 'em, they're so loud. I nearly fainted when they began screeching, it's like nails across a chalk board."

"I thought you liked Herbology though."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean I like mandrakes. I'm really looking forward to it this year. Hey, have any of you seen Scorpius Malfoy?"

"No," Hugo replied. "What, did he finally get what was coming to him or something?"

"No, I don't think he's here at all. I walked past his friends Tom Goyale and Gareth Zabini, they were looking around looking for him."

"I didn't see him at the station." Albus remarked. "I didn't even see his dear old dad Draco. My dad used to hate him. I heard he was a Death Eater for Voldemort, I bet he still is, he's probably got Bellatrix Lestrange in his house right now, taking care of her I reckon, she's his aunt you know, bet that's why Scorpious isn't here, he's helping his dad take care of Voldemort's cronies."

Phil, Hugo, and Rose winced at the sound of Voldemort's name, something that greatly irritated Albus. The man was dead and people were still afraid to utter his name aloud, pure idiocy, absolute rubbish that was.

"You shouldn't say things like that mate." Hugo warned feebly, still reeling from the shock of hearing Lord Voldemort's name spoke aloud, he'd always been like that, and Albus had always used it.

"I agree, it's a bit far out." Rose added. "Scorpious is probably ill, it is a bit odd he's not here but I don't think it has to do with Bellatrix Lestrange. If she's smart she's probably out of the country by now."

"So, how're you two feeling about your parents teaching?" Phil asked, apparently desperate to change the subject to something more… lighthearted. Albus graciously let it go and vowed not to mention Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters for a bit.

"I'm looking forward to it actually. Especially Arithmancy since mum is teaching it." said Rose quite happily. "Charms'll probably be brilliant as well."

"Hmpf," Hugo huffed. Clearly he did not share his sister's positive opinions on his parents teaching him. "I'm just glad I'm not taking Arithmancy, mum would embarrass the heck out of me. Charms probably won't be that bad."

"Well if you're not taking Arithmancy then what are you taking?" asked Phil. "Not Divination! I heard stories about Professor Trelawney, she killed the centaur that was teaching with her, she did!"

"No she did not!" snapped Rose, sounding so much like Hermione Albus actually looked hurriedly up at the luggage racks, half expecting to find her lying there and spying on them. "Phil, honestly, Frienze was killed in the Forbidden Forest! He went back to try and redeem himself in the eyes of the centaurs."

"Didn't work out well then." Hugo muttered and Phil simply said, "Oh."

"Well anyway I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures, I like Hagrid." said Hugo.

"So am I!" Albus cried. "Least we'll have one class together."

"Didn't James take Care of Magical Creatures Al?" asked Phil, desperate to avoid the murderous looks Rose was shooting at him for insulting Professor Trelawney, Rose got like that over any professor really, if she had actually know Sybill Trelawney for the kind of teacher she was….

"He dropped it though," Albus replied. "He's all worried about his OWLS this year."

They continued to talk like this until the day began to fade into twilight, though no one noticed since they were all distracted by humorous stories Eloise Gibbons (much to Rose's fury) and Albus's siblings. By the time they finally realized they had lost all track of time stars glinted in the black sky and the moon cast its pale glow on the lake outside their windows, Hogsmeade was in the distance... it was nearly time.

Albus, Hugo, Rose, and Phil speedily got dressed into their school robes as the Hogwarts Express began to slow. Phil was the last to be ready and by that time the halls of the train were flooded with people. After it cleared up all four of them were easily able to disembark the train, Albus caught sight of a nervous looking Lily who was heading down toward the boats and the river with the enormous Hagrid, Albus gave his sister a reassuring look and waved at the game keeper whose trash bin lid sized hand flew through the air to return the gesture. Albus followed his comrades to the thestral drawn carriages that would whisk them away to the beautiful and brightly lit castle in the distance. Albus knew that thestrals did indeed pull the carriages only because his father had told him after his first year when he inquired about what spell pulled them.

Albus, Hugo, Rose, and Phil each hopped onto the back of the very last carriage and were pulled off to Hogwarts. Once they reached the school they entered the Great Hall as usual and took their seats. Each professor was seating at the staff table at the far end, the headmaster Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled lightly at the students. Albus's stomach growled, his relayed his annoyance about how long the sorting took to Hugo who agreed with him grimily. About a minute later Hagrid's massive hands pushed the giant doors to the Great Hall open and he came bounding in towards the staff table, his booted feet thumping on the floor loudly. The gamekeeper took a seat in his large chair next to Professor McGonagall's empty one, which looked considerably smaller next to him, as though a child would occupy it.

The wait was not long because a moment later Minerva McGonagall burst through the doors leading a large army of awed first years into the Hall. Each of them looked in wonder towards the ceiling which seemed to be part of the clear night sky, and at the hundreds of candles floating just above McGonagall's head, she lead them quickly towards the platform on which the staff table sat. There a small bench laid, the sorting hat perched upon it. Albus groaned quietly as his stomach growled once more and McGonagall unrolled the longest piece of parchment he had ever seen. Why did there have to be so many first years?

It was then to sorting hat sang it's usual song and McGonagall's loud, stern voice began to speak, calling nervous looking first years to sit upon the bench and be sorted. The first few went like clockwork, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff! McGonagall was quickly reaching the halfway point of the list. Albus, and pretty much the entire back half of the Slytherin table expressed their annoyance and hunger in groans when the sorting hat was perched atop the head of a nervous first year boy with long mousy brown hair. It considered where to put him for over five minutes before shouting its choice of Ravenclaw. Albus finally took quick lived interest when Lily was called up; it seemed even before the hat hit her head it shouted Gryffindor. Lily, who was noticeably tense, became less so and absolutely beamed as she approached the table.

The rest of the sorting seemed to go on for hours on end. Albus was quickly tiring of Minerva McGonagall's voice and his stomach continued to growl so loudly he was surprised no one at the Slytherin table, on the complete other side of the hall noticed nothing. Finally McGongall's voice called the last of the first years, a little dark girl who was the spitting image of Angelina Johnson. Albus let out a sigh of relief as the hat immediately chose Gryffindor.

Finally the sorting was over, Kingsley stood up, drawing himself to full height, gave his usual speech warning first years about the Forbidden Forest and such and finally sat down. Albus snatched up all the food he could fit on his plate when it finally materialized before him. He was absolutely stuffed, having eaten copious amounts of potatoes, turkey, chicken, and all manner of other foods and deserts by the time Kingsley bade them all goodnight. Albus went up to the dormitories happily and slept well that night, completely unaware of the horrors that lurked in the future.

_**God that was a long chapter. Not to worry though, the next one will have a few more events in it, Albus will finally discover he wants to follow in Harry's footsteps and will be trying out for Quidditch. Also, keep in mind this is a fan fiction, I know some of the stuff JK Rowling said about like McGonagall being retired and whatnot but I'd rather keep her in because I happen to like her. Oh and the reason I put Slughorn into retirement and brought him back is so I could write Albus meeting him for the first time (see next chapter) and because what Albus gets from Slughorn may become important. Kingsley is the Headmaster for reasons I will explain when the time comes, but since I like McGonagall you'll see why.**_


	4. Slughorn

_Chapter 4: Slughorn_

The Ministry of Magic was absolutely bustling this morning. Wizards flooded the Atrium, appearing from the fireplaces, brushing ash from their robes and going about their business. It was all Harry could do not to scream as he treaded slowly through the crowd. He was already late, and he was head of the Auror office, not ideal. Plus now that Ron and Hermione were teaching at Hogwarts and Ginny worked on a complete other floor he didn't have many people to talk to.

"_Hem, hem,_" squeaked a sickeningly sweet voice behind him. Harry nearly cursed as he turned right into the face of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge. "Excuse me Mr. Potter."

"What?" snapped Harry, he and Umbridge hated one another to this day, and neither made any attempt to hide it, especially Umbridge. Every time Harry saw her it was all he could do not to pull out his want and jinx her right in her hideous toad-like face.

"I'm here to give you a warning Mr. Potter, as senior Undersecretary to the—"

"I know, you have the power to fire people. I won't be late again, alright!"

"And—"

"I know, I'm head of the Auror office, you outrank me in position and you want me fired because you just don't like me, I'm not too fond of you either Umbridge." Harry snapped. He help up his hand, she winced as though he were about to smack her toady face (he would certainly have liked to), once she realized he was not however, her eyes swept across the back of his hand, etched there in scars, still barely visible were the words: _I must not tell lies._

"Well," said Umbridge, seemingly at a loss for words. Harry was just about to turn around and leave, he wanted to avoid Umbridge as much as possible, she was so… well the most polite description of Dolores Umbridge was that she was horrible, completely, utterly, nastily horrible, her physical appearance was quite frightening, she looked like an elderly toad, her voice was annoying, high pitched, and girlish, and she had a personality like poisoned honey. Harry felt a pang of pity for the Minister, Percy Weasley, who she worked for; he had to deal with her rubbish every day, and he was not in the position to fire her, she did good work for him as she was loyal, completely and utterly to any minister. Harry briefly wondered how she managed to wriggle her way out of Azkaban, after what she did to those Muggle-borns when Voldemort took over the Ministry.

"Well what?" Harry snapped.

"That was actually not what I was going to say Potter. Do not interrupt me in the future." Umbridge retorted, he sweet and girlish voice seemed somehow as threatening as it could possibly be, still Harry had been snapped at worse, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, even Malfoy.

"What is it then? Out with it, as you know I'm already late!"

"Yes well, the Minister wished me to pass a message along to you. Auror Thomas needs to speak with you."

"Fine." Harry replied shortly, as slight curiosity fell upon him, what did Dean need to see him for? Yes, Dean was an Auror, he had joined the force before Harry did. "Anything else."

"No Mr. Potter."

"Bye then." said Harry as he continued his walk toward the surely cramped lifts. Umbridge gave a sigh of annoyance and anger and stalked off, Harry briefly hoped her obesity would kill her some day. He would never like that woman, she was a terrible person, if only she had worked for Voldemort… if only she had been a Death Eater. Where now would she be? Azkaban, rotting away like Fenrir Grayback, like Yaxley, Mcnair, or the Carrows? These thoughts ran through his mind as he stepped onto the least crowded lift he could find and descended to the floor of the Auror office. Thankfully it was much less crowded here and Harry easily made his way down the long corridors.

He found Dean waiting for him before his office door, for the first time since he had parted with Ginny this morning a smile crossed his lips. Dean shook his hand quite enthusiastically, despite the news he was about to relay….

"Hey Harry… Mr. Potter I mean." said Dean as he let go.

"Hi Dean, you can call me Harry you know." Harry replied. "So you've got news for me?"

"Yes, I didn't know if the Minister would actually be able to give it to you, but you usually see him every morning, more than anyone else and you know him so I thought it would be the best choice."

"Actually Umbridge told me."

"Oh, sorry."

"It's alright."

"Someday, after she's fired I'm going to jinx her little toad face."

Harry laughed quietly, and then he got a hold of himself.

"So what's up?"

"Actually this is sort of sensitive, maybe we should step inside your office?" Dean suggested. Harry's curiosity was perked. What information could be so sensitive that the rest of the Auror office was not to hear about it? Or perhaps some high officials didn't want anything leaked into the _Daily Prophet_, there were several Aurors Harry knew that would be happy to give the paper information on whatever Dean told him, or else might slip and spill, and so Harry agreed in the form of nodding his head and allowed Dean into his spacious, but entirely unorganized and messy office.

Harry took a seat at his maple wood desk and flicked his want lazily, a comfortable looking ash chair sprang out of the air and placed itself before Harry's desk, Dean graciously took it, and Harry folded his arms and looked the man straight in the eye.

"Can I offer you something to drink? I have Madam Rosemerta's finest oaken Meade or some firewhisky if you prefer, Dean." Harry offered.

"No thanks, Harry." Dean declined. "I really just need to tell you this."

"Alright, go ahead." said Harry, still curious, but trying as hard as he could to appear not so.

"Okay, now a Muggle called the police force yesterday about a body floating in the lake near his house. Naturally they came to investigate and fished the body from the lake, they sent it to a morgue for autopsy, however the Muggle who preformed it found absolutely no signs of death. This sparked the interest of one of an Auror who happened to catch wind of it. We took possession of the body and found that it was Alexey Dashkov, a Russian wizard who works at Azkaban." Dean explained, he waited for a reply from Harry eagerly, as though his boss was about to tell him that he believed there to be a conspiracy behind the death, and that it was much more that it seemed.

"Alright," said Harry lightly. "Go on."

"Well obviously he was killed by the Avada Kedavra curse, but we also found signs he was tortured, probably for information."

"Any suspects?" asked Harry, he had one in mind…. Where were the Malfoys, was it a coincidence that this body just appeared while they had shut themselves inside their mansion, away from the public eye.

"We believe it might have been Bellatrix Lestrange." said Dean. Harry had suspected he would say that from the moment he spoke the word 'killed'.

"Alright, well look into this then." said Harry. "Keep it hushed I suppose no one's going to like it if news of a murder gets out."

XxX

Albus awoke grimly the next morning and got dressed for his lessons. It was a dreary day, purplish gray clouds hung over the mountains in the distance, while a ceiling of white covered the cerulean sky and blocked the pale sunlight of morning. After gathering his necessary supplies he strode into the common room where he met Rose, Hugo, and Phil. Together they headed down to breakfast which turned out to be very filling and tasty, though it did nothing to lighten anyone's moods.

Once the group of four exited the Great Hall Rose bade them all goodbye and headed off to Arithmancy, excited that her mother would be teaching which Albus, and Hugo found odd, not Phil through, he was used to it since his father taught Herbology. After Rose began to ascend the Grand Staircase the trio of third years made their way to the dark, dank, dreary dungeons for their first Potion lesson of the year, and to meet their new professor. Apparently a man named Horace Slughorn had taught a two years prior to the Battle of Hogwarts where Voldemort was killed, and the man had went into retirement again for the next twenty-two years, an elderly, dreadful man had taken the post and become head of Slytherin House, he was forced to retire at the end of last year after someone left a mild poison in his goblet during dinner. He vowed never to return to Hogwarts, all the better for Albus who utterly disliked him.

He was curious to meet this new… old Professor Slughorn who Headmaster Shacklebolt had recently succeeded in rehiring. Harry had told him a few things about Horace Slughorn, mostly that he created a group he called the Slug Club in which he gathered the sons and daughters of the famous, or the smartest, most talented you witches and wizards around him. He apparently had a knack for picking those that would go one to become rich, famous, or successful, or any of the three. Harry had warned all three of his children, James, Albus, and Lily that Slughorn would likely target them for his Slug Club.

Albus did not immediately find out as he entered the potions classroom for Slughorn was nowhere to be found. He, Hugo, and Phil took a seat furthest away from the empty teacher's desk and waited gloomily for Slughorn to enter, and for the no doubt boring lesson to begin. They completely ignored the small cauldron on his desk which was filled with a golden liquid, hundreds of sunlight colored drops sprung from it, flying into the air and back into the cauldron, not one hit the floor.

A few minutes later the walrus like man who was Horace Slughorn burst into the dungeon classroom.

"Albus m'boy!" he boomed, striding straight up to the table that Albus, Hugo, and Phil occupied, completely ignoring the rest of the class who did not seem to care at all, except for several Slytherins who apparently expected more preferential treatment from their head of house. Slughorn reached Albus quickly and enthusiastically shook his hand. "Welcome to your first potion lesson with me m'boy! The son of Harry Potter I see, yes, your father had a natural talent at potion making he did, head Auror now I see, and no one better for the job than him, no sir, what with his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and such…. Well anyway good to meat you m'boy. And you!"

Slughorn turned enthusiastically to Phil, completely ignoring a cross looking Hugo as though he were a pile of pungent dung.

"You are the son of Neville Longbottom are you not, and Luna Lovegood?"

"Yeah," Phil replied unenthusiastically as he shook Slughorn's hand.

"Great parents you have my lad. Neville is the best Herbology Hogwarts has ever seen! No offense to poor Professor Sprout, may she rest in peace… and your mother Luna, she was part of the organization known as Dumbledore's Army I think, and she took on Bellatrix Lestrange during that fateful battle here at Hogwarts! My, my, it was very good to meet you as well." Slughorn cried happily.

"My parents are both teaching at Hogwarts," Hugo muttered, catching Slughorn's undivided attention. "And they helped Mr. Potter defeat You-Know-Who."

"Oh! I must have overlooked you, Hugo isn't it?" Slughorn asked while taking Hugo's clammy hand and shaking it vigorously. "Yes your parents were indeed very talented, most especially your mother Hermione, yes, she was a right good one she was, best witch in her year! I suppose you must have inherited her talents as well? Good to meet you too! Alright class, enough chit-chat let's began the lesson!"

At this everyone groaned and opened their textbooks.

"Now, now, don't fret!" boomed Slughorn as he strode up to his desk and stood next to the small cauldron, golden drops still shooting from it. "I always try to make the first lesson of the year a friendly competition, ever since I came to Hogwarts the year poor Albus Dumbledore was killed, and I always offer the same reward. Can anyone tell me what this little potion is?" Slughorn gestured to the golden liquid in the cauldron next to him.

Albus took a lazy glance at it, and then it hit him. He knew exactly what that was! His father had won it in his first lesson with Slughorn! Albus's hand shot into the air, Hugo and Phil snickered, hand shooting was more of Rose's style.

"Yes Albus? What is this potion, I'm sure you with Harry Potter as your father know!" Slughorn asked happily.

"It's Felix Felicis." said Albus. "It's liquid luck, if you drink it you'll be lucky at everything you do."

"Correct!" said Slughorn. The gloomy atmosphere in the room lifted almost immediately and every student gave Slughorn their fullest attention. "Ten points to Gryffindor I think, yes. Mr. Potter is quite right, it is liquid luck, a marvelous little potion, Felix Felicis. I drank it twice myself, best two days of my life. Well, this potion is the reward for the person who completes a simple healing potion flawlessly. A review from last year's segment I'll assume, for you third year, any simple healing potion you'd like to create, I believe you learned how to make one though, so all of you begin with that, the person who completes theirs flawlessly wins the potions. Go ahead and begin."

Everyone's hands shot toward their textbooks, the room was filled with the sound of flapping pages, clinking scales, and cauldrons. Albus was first to find the correct page which detailed the ingredients needed. He quickly lit a fire under his cauldron and rushed to get the ingredients. He'd never been excellent at potions, but perhaps it was the Felix Felicis that motivated him to do well because he seemed to progress further than anyone in class, Slughorn looked down at his potions happily and exclaimed,

"You have inherited your father's natural potion making skills I see! Always the first done in class with the best results Harry was, made an excellent Draught of Living Death in the first lesson I had with him, even bested Ms. Hermione Granger! Carry on Albus, oh, five minutes left!"

Albus scrambled to cram all the ingredients in and proceeded to stir as the book said, after which his potion was supposed to turn a navy blue color. Indeed it became so just as Slughorn announced the time was up. Albus stopped and glanced around at everyone's potions, no one had proceeded as far as he had! The closest potion to his was a very pale blue, created by a Slytherin. Slughorn gave an approving word to the students as he walked by, savoring his trip to the last table to glance at Albus's potion as he rightly expected it to be flawlessly completed.

When he reached the table he glanced down at Phil's which was a beautiful lilac color, though that was what the book said to expect at stage five of the potion making. He took a look at Hugo's somewhat expectantly and scowled slightly, Hugo, unlike Hermione had never been one for potion making, his cauldron looked as though it contained a boiling mud. Slughorn's scowl faded when he looked upon Ablus's.

"Excellent, completely flawless!" Slughorn boomed happily. "Albus Potter here has won the Felix Felicis and rightly so, you've definitely inherited your father's potion making skill."

Albus smiled as Slughorn produced a small vile of the golden liquid from a pocket in his green robes and handed it to him. Several Slytherins scowled angrily.

"I must warn you though, Felix Felicis is banned from most sporting events as well as on tests. Use it one just a normal day, and watch that day become extraordinary!" said Slughorn. "Well now, class dismissed _good luck_ Albus."

The trio left the classroom quickly, Phil and Hugo seemed downed that they had not won the lucky potion, and their glum feelings were magnified by the rain that fell down past the windows, and the dull gray sky. Albus's spirit was brightened immensely and the rest of his lessons went smoothly, despite the homework he received from McGonagall and Longbottom.

The next week, which was also the first week of the first term at Hogwarts transitioned by smoothly, Albus completed all of his homework by Saturday and awoke Sunday, free to do as he pleased. The moment he stepped into the common room a sign on the notice board caught his eyes. Tryouts for Quiddich were being held soon. Excitement gripped him, he had always wanted to try out for the Quiddich team but never thought he was good enough until this past summer when his family traveled to the Burrow for a holiday, there he had practiced flying with Ron's brother George, as well as his father, Ron, Hugo, and James. He had improved brilliantly and felt he was ready. He made a mental note to try out for Quiddich, and for the next few days that was all he looked forward to. Apparently he had followed in his father's footsteps in potions, he also hoped he could do so in Quiddich.

_**I brought Umbridge in and still kept her in the ministry because I want to write her causing trouble for Harry in a while… and who knows, something utterly horrible might happen to her later on…. Next chapter we can look forward to Quiddich tryouts. Oh and Percy is minister because I thought he might actually be good at it since he's so devoted.**_


	5. Suspicions and Quidditch Tryouts

_Chapter 5: Suspicions and Quidditch Tryouts_

Damn Rita Skeeter! Her lies, she herself, both were loathsome Harry noted as he looked over her new article in the _Daily Prophet_. He and Ginny had just gotten up to eat breakfast and were now in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place which was now their home. Kreacher happily poured steaming tea into Harry's cup and after receiving thanks from Harry, slipped away quietly to attend to other chores. Ever since Harry had been nice to Kreacher when he came back to this house with Ron and Hermione so many years ago the house elf gladly did whatever Harry told him to, and the house was much cleaner and a lot less creepy, grimy, dusted, and creature infested then it had been ever before. Heads of house elfs no longer lined the wall near the entrance, all the furniture was clean and comfortable, Mrs. Black's portrait had been miraculously removed (apparently destroying it with… forgive Harry… the Avada Kedavra curse had gotten rid of Mrs. Black once and for all) a picture of Albus Dumbledore hung in its place.

Harry slammed his cup of morning tea down hard when he began to read the article Rita Skeeter had written about Alexey Dashkov's murder.

_Alexey Dashkov, prison worker at Azkaban was found dead on an unconfirmed day floating in a river. All evidence points to the fact that he was killed by the unforgivable Avada Kedavra curse. Evidence leads us to believe that it may have been a Death Eater still loyal to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, our probable suspect is Bellatrix Lestrange who managed to escape capture at the Battle of Hogwarts twenty two years ago where Molly Weasley nearly died dueling her…_

Harry scowled, Molly did not nearly die! In fact she probably would have won against Bellatrix had they not all been distracted when Voldemort died; the little things like this that Rita Skeeter wrote annoyed him immensely. Ginny glanced at the paper and scowled angrily too.

"Absolutely horrible, that woman," said Ginny. "Can't stand her."

"Why did the _Prophet _let her write for them again?" Harry asked irritably. "You work there…"

"It was because of the biography on Dumbledore she wrote."

"That was a load of rubbish!" Harry snapped. "Just like this article, no… she interviewed _Umbridge_?"

Harry could not think of two worse people getting together for an interview, this ought to be good. He continued to read.

_I requested to interview the Minister of Magic about this tragic death however he was unavailable for comment, I tried again to reach head of the Auror office Harry Potter who rudely turned me down…_

Harry nearly choked on his toast. Rita Skeeter never even talked to him! Umbridge did, and looking back on it he was probably extremely rude to her… maybe Rita Skeeter had used that to get it into the paper.

_So I turned to my last hope, Dolores Jane Umbridge, Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, she graciously sat down with me to comment. _

"_It is most likely nothing to worry about." Umbridge stated. "We believe that it was probably a rouge Death Eater like you suggested Ms. Skeeter."_

_I then asked where this information came from; Umbridge was gracious enough to confide that to me as well._

"_I attempted to ask the Auror Head Harry Potter," says Umbridge. "However he rudely turned me down and was very short with me, he's been so ever since I taught him in his fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps you might want to include that Ms. Skeeter? I hear you're writing a biography on Mr. Potter."_

_Indeed I will be writing a biography about Harry Potter, detailing his life from birth till present, all the mysteries, secrets, and lies will be revealed about Mr. Potter, detailing everything from his illegal entry to the Triwizard Tournament, to his _miraculous _defeat of You-Know-Who, which in fact was not as miraculous as it seemed, seeing as Potter cheated in both events, full details will be revealed for I, Rita Skeeter who know Harry Potter best, I've exclusively interviewed him at least twenty seven times, though not all of them got published mind you. Anyway back on to the murder investigation which has yielded little…_

Harry could no longer read. Everything Rita Skeeter wrote was rubbish, and it had gotten worse over the years. Plus she was absolutely wrong about the murder, Bellatrix Lestrange had not been seen, or heard in years, and Harry knew so for himself since he was head of the Auror office. Had he been a regular wizarding civilian like everyone else he might have suspected her as well. But in all likeliness Bellatrix Lestrange was no longer in the country, so Harry's suspicions turned to the Malfoys. He seriously doubted they could have committed murder, though he was sure they had something do with it. Everything about them at the moment was completely fishy. They had not been seen in public for months, the only news people had was that they were all terribly ill, but it was just odd. And Draco's son Scorpious was not attending Hogwarts…. It was suspicious indeed.

"Harry, you look troubled." said Ginny. That was an understatement; he was way past the line of troubled now. "Don't listen to what Skeeter writes, everyone who works at the prophet knows it's complete rubbish, and I'm sure everyone at the Ministry knows Umbridge is not to be trusted, a good amount of their lot were in Hogwarts when she took over that year."

"It's not that." Harry replied distantly, his mind still on the Malfoys and their dark, eerie mansion. Were they really all in their beds now, sick with Dragon Pox or some other terrible disease? Or were they all sitting around their own copy of the _Daily Prophet _and reading Rita Skeeter's article like he had this morning? Were they laughing that no one had any leads beside Narcissa's sister Bellatrix? Did they know who really murdered Alexey Dashkov, were they involved?

"What is it then?" asked Ginny.

"I… I think the Malfoys might have something to do with it." said Harry unable to stop himself, he really had no evidence to base it on at all, it was just a hunch as Ginny was about to argue.

"Harry, there's no evidence that they're tied to it, Bellatrix may be Narcissa's sister but that doesn't mean anything, and just because they haven't been seen in public for a while doesn't mean they had something to do with murder."

"I know."

"And there's no physical evidence, or magical evidence, or even circumstantial evidence."

"I know!"

"And…"

"What?"

"And you're hunches are usually right." said Ginny. Harry half expected her to be joking, or else humoring him. But the look on her face was that of the utmost seriousness. "But we'll have to wait and see…."

Harry didn't like the idea, but before he could voice his opposition to it an ashy black owl zoomed out of the chimney and landed before Harry, nearly knocking his tea over. Harry noticed it had a letter tied to its leg, he quickly pulled it free and gave a bit of his toast to it, the owl then flew into the air and soared back out the chimney. Ginny watched as Harry unrolled the small piece of parchment and found that it was a letter from Al.

_Dad,_

_School's been good so far except all the homework that McGonagall and Longbottom have given us. I met Professor Slughorn, in the first lesson I won a bottle of Felix Felicis for making a healing potion faster than anyone in the class, he said I inherited your talents. You didn't tell me you were good at potions, I thought DADA was your subject._

_Anyway I'm going to try out for Quidditch, I want to be a seeker like you were, hopefully I'll do good and James will let me play. Did you notice Scorpious Malfoy hasn't come to Hogwarts this year? I reckon he must be sick. Well, hopefully I'll see you at my first Quidditch match then._

_Albus_

Harry smiled, he'd been so proud when James made the Quidditch team, and even more so when he had become Captain this year. If Albus made it as well, that might just make his day, and maybe sometime in the future Lily would eventually get on the team, his children all had Quidditch in their blood, Ginny was a chaser and a right good one too, and Harry had been the best seeker in Gryffindor since Charlie Weasley. However once these thoughts left his head his suspicions of the Malfoys returned to fill it. He handed Ginny the letter from Albus and told her he was going to head off to work, it would likely be a long busy day dealing with that murder case, and he was sure that if Umbridge decided to speak with him again the day would be longer still.

XxX

Albus was nervous for all sorts of reasons, and it did not help that James decided to hold the seeker tryouts last, nor that he would be using a school broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand model which may have been fast back in his father's days but it was very outdated now. He stood nervously in the Quidditch pitch as James tried out the Chasers first. Albus watched as they hit the quaffle around, some were clearly much more adept than others, and a select few looked as though they had never before ridden a broom. Many of them dropped like flies and left the Quidditch field in embarrassment, especially a mousy brown haired fifth year who made out as though he was an expert at Quidditch and there was no chance he would not be picked. He fell off his broom when he managed to catch the quaffle after seven failed attempts.

Beaters were tried next, in groups of four, two on two. The first group consisted of a fourth year girl, and a sixth year boy on one side, and the next was made up of two sixth year boys who did horribly, only one managed to hit a bludger, the other was hit in the shoulder by one. It turned out that the fourth year girl and sixth year boy made the best beaters. Albus thought they were likely to be chosen and James did compliment them well.

Next were the keepers, only two out of the entire lot managed to save more than three goals thrown by James, one was a fourth year boy who managed to save six out of seven shots, the other was a sixth year boy who saved the first five exquisitely and with great skill, but stumbled horribly on the sixth shot which fell bounced off the tip of his fingers and flew through the middle hoop, the last shot he completely missed. James did have his eye on most of whom he though were excellent, but he decided not to choose anyone that day, he made that announcement shortly before he told the seeker hopefuls to step out onto the field. By this time everyone who had tried out before hand sat in the stands, Albus could barely make out Hugo and Phil amongst the crowd.

James was trying out seekers in pairs; he released the snitch, sent two possible candidates up in the air, and got two beater candidates to hit bludgers at them, this way James could see how fast and nimble they were, whilst also testing how well they could find the snitch. Also, with this idea of training people got cut like flies because most of them were hit by bludgers whilst searching for the snitch, only one person managed (so he said) to catch sight of it, but he was hit in the arm with a bludger.

Now James called Albus to try out, against another boy, a fourth year named Colin Mucilage who was an exceptionally muscular muggle born. Albus thought he might have a chance, muggle borns didn't get to practice Quidditch skills during summer holidays….

The moment James blew the whistle, Al kicked up off the ground hard and found himself soaring around the Quidditch Pitch, no one yet had caught the snitch, he intended to be the first, it would surely secure him a spot on the team. He circled the pitch once before he noticed a bludger was zooming straight at his head, pushing down, he divided slightly to avoid it, only to have it arc back around a shoot like a bullet toward his arm. He barely dodged in time, pulling up, and over the black ball as it flew toward a beater who then hit it toward Mucilage.

For the better part of seven minutes this went on, and then Al noticed a glint of gold near the Slytherin stands, just a few feet under him, he dived steeply, the snitch was in sight, in his hot pursuit a bludger flew at him and missed only by luck, snapping off a few twigs of the broom, as he neared the flying gold that would secure his position on the team Mucilage flew up next to him, gloved hand outstretched to take the glory for himself, however one of the beaters smacked a bludger Albus's way, he ducked in the knick of time, the thing overshot him and hit his opponent square in the shoulder, knocking him right off of his broom so he fell several feet before hitting the ground. Once he landed Albus distinctly heard several of his father's most carefully picked swear words pour from his mouth. He laughed in triumph as he reached out for the snitch, he was so close to victory, so close and then…

A blinding pain shot up his leg and he unintentionally dived forward. Some bludger had doubled around and it had caught him right in the side of the shin, however, as he dived against his will his outstretched hand smacked something round and closed upon it. He had caught the snitch! Cheers erupted from the crowd, he was the only one out of the seeker hopefuls that managed to catch the snitch, and he was the last one! He landed lightly near his older brother.

"Well Al," said James. "you did good."

Pointing his want at his neck James muttered something and when he spoke next his voice was magically magnified.

"Alright, that's all for Quidditch tryouts, results will be posted at the end of the week, now off you go you useless lot! Haven't you got studying to do?!"


	6. Mass Breakout

_**I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this chapter….**_

_Chapter 6: Mass Breakout_

It was easy entering Azkaban. All she had to do was take a broomstick and land, she had announced herself as a guest, and an Auror having taken Polyjuice Potion earlier to sell her disguise, thought it would wear off soon. The enchantments guarding the prison were briefly lifted and she had swooped in. Bellatrix Lestrange strode easily into the reception lobby under the disguise of some snooty looking, black haired Auror woman. She strode up to the receptionist's dark desk as though she had all the authority in the world at her side.

The lobby area was quite small and gave on the feeling of claustrophobia, Bellatrix remembered back when she had been led through this room very room and to the only door in it, directly behind the desk, a barred door with numerous enchantments on it, formerly guarded by two dementors, now two grim looking Aurors stood on either side of it.

"Welcome to Azkaban Auror Anita Narwin." said the gruff looking receptionist. "I'll be needing to sign you in. What's your business here?"

"Transfer request from Head Auror Potter himself." Bellatrix replied shortly, it took all of her will to not utter Harry Potter in a hateful, spiteful tone.

"For whom?"

"Fenrir Greyback, and Rudolphus Lestrange." she said, pulling a falsified order signed by Harry potter out of her black robes. The receptionist looked it over quickly and then pulled out his wand. Bellatrix kept a firm hold on her own, if he was going to test it by magical means….

Sadly he did, the man swept his stout, ash wand over the parchment several times. Bellatrix suspected he knew it was not written by Harry Potter at all when he looked back up at her.

"Drop your wand please, and show me some identification." he commanded. Bellatrix moved, the receptionist moved fast, his wand was aimed at her chest before she drew hers.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ he cried.

Bellatrix ducked and felt her wand slightly vibrate.

"_EXPULSO!"_ she bellowed, and added. _"Protego!"_ as the man's desk exploded, sending him flying back towards the barred doors and the Aurors who were now running toward her, wands drawn. The chunks of the desk bounced off of her shield easily as did a curse from one of the Aurors which rebounded and blew a bit of stone out of the black wall. Bellatrix stood to her feet again, and even though her shield prevented her from casting a spell at one of her enemies… there was one spell that she knew could easily break it, and she happened to be quite accomplished in the art of murder.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ she cried. There was a whoosh, a jet of emerald light, and a blinding flash as her shield broke. A small thud as the Auror to the left hit the ground and the other one took his chance.

"_Stupefy!" _

"_CRUCIO!"_ Bellatrix dodged the jet of crimson light sent at her from her enemy; however he was not so lucky. Her curse hit him full on and he dropped to the floor, withering and screaming in pain.

"Open the door you filthy muggle born!" she commanded of him.

"NOOO!" he cried, still bellowing at the top of his lungs from the pain of the curse, however she doubted anyone would hear, the stairs spiraled up the length of seven floors before actually reaching a large guard area, and then the prison and various other facilities stood above that. Though dementors used to tread the stairways as guards, so she wouldn't be surprised if an Auror or two was up there… still….

"Are you quite sure?" Bellatrix sneered.

"NEVER!"

"Fine," she snapped and aimed her wand down at his foot.

"_Incendio!"_

A small string of red-orange flame shot from the tip of her wand and hit the Auror's foot, his boot burst into flames and as it burned his foot he cried out more terribly then ever.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Bellatrix shrieked. However the man's screeches of protest were not incoherent.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ she hissed through gritted teeth. The Auror screamed no more.

As she strode toward the receptionist on the other side of the lobby, bloodied and bruised after the desk exploded, but alive, she felt her skin twitched and then bubble, slowly she reverted back to her original appearance, no longer did she look like Anita Narwin whom she had killed in London, she was once again Bellatrix Lestrange.

"_Levicorpus!"_ she growled inside her head. The poor receptionist, dripping blood, bruised and battered everywhere was lifted into the air by his ankles.

"I don't want to make this hard for you." Bellatrix Lestrange said insincerely.

"Kill me! You'll get nothing from me you—you bit—"

"_Crucio!"_

"ARGH!"

This man's shrieks were worse than those of the Aurors. He convulsed and shook violently in the air, as he bellowed in pain.

"_Crucio!"_ Lestrange repeated, and the man ceased his violent convulsion, breathing hard, wheezing slightly, and now bleeding worse than ever for some reason. "Tell me how to open the door!"

"Put the Imperious curse on me!" he retorted. "That's the only way you'll get it out of me!"

"No it is not. Now tell me… what do you fear? Hmm…. _Legilimens!_"

In Bellatrix's sight, the Auror's image seemed to spin, and his eye flew closer and closer, until it completely filled her view, and suddenly she saw what he feared the most… oh, how… simple. With a flick of her wand she now saw the man clearly, not just his eyes.

"_Serpensortia!"_

An oily black cobra seemed to grow from the tip of her wand. The dangling receptionist let out a shriek of terror as the snake began to weave itself around his neck, and travel along his arms. He quivered in cold fear.

"Open the door." she commanded as she twirled her wand, the snake and the man both fell to the ground, the cobra letting out an angry hiss. Almost as soon as he could he got to his feet and attempted to shake the snake off.

"Careful… you'll only make it angry." Bellatrix warned. Her victim gulped as the cobra's mouth flew open, revealing long white fangs.

"Open the door!" she commanded again. He did need to be told a second time, quickly his stubby fingers closed around a discarded wand, not daring to turn on Bellatrix Lestrange he pointed it unsteadily at the door and began to mutter certain complex incantations. Seconds later the door burst open with a kind of buzzing sound.

"Thank you dear, your sacrifice to our cause shall not be forgotten." Bellatrix said gleefully as the frightened receptionist dropped the wand, casting a nervous glance at the cobra.

"My sacrifice?!" he asked incredulously.

"You can't possibly think I could let you live? No, no, no, you've seen me, you know who I am."

"Surely you can just erase my memory?! Please, I don't want to die."

"Erasing your memory might be amusing for a moment… but I'd rather not, plus you weren't exactly helpful until I cast out that cobra were you?"

"But—"

"But, but, but—nothing!" Bellatrix screeched in a singsong mock baby voice, horribly shrill and chilling to the bone.

"Please! I beg you."

"You're wasting my time. _Avada Kedavra!_"

A jet of green light, a whoosh broke the silence and the man spoke no more, the snake uncoiled itself from the dead man's limb and slithered toward its master, Bellatrix extended an arm and allowed it to slither up on her shoulders.

"You've been helpful my sweet." she cooed as she stepped through the doorway and began to climb the tower of Azkaban stopping on the first landing she came to where the guard house was… pointing her wand at the door she casually said,

"_Expluso."_

It exploded into splinters of wood, shooting inward and killing a guard in the small room behind it. There were three doors, one in front, one to the right, one to the left….

"_Expulso!"_ she cried three times, each time aiming her wand at the walls which blew and killed the guards in the other rooms… obviously they did not have enchantments to protect the inner walls… but the outer walls might be a problem… or perhaps it was just on the guard floor? After all guards may need to cast spells… so there would be no protective enchantments there? Or maybe the fools had taken them down, either way she continued upwards to the very top floor where the most dangerous of prisoners were held, releasing some on the way (which proved difficult because there were indeed anti spell enchantments on the upper floors) to distract more guards in other guard houses. Finally she reached the top landing, two Auror's guarded the heavy iron door that led into the cell area, they were clearly expecting someone, raising their wand right away they cried _"Stupefy!"_

"_PROTEGO!" _Bellatrix screeched, it echoed down the stairwell and a magical shield appeared before her, the guards' spells bounced off like ricocheting bullets and hit each of their casters. The lady Death Eater angled her wand at the door and began to rip away at the defensive enchantments which were some of the most powerful she'd even encountered, finally they were lifted and the door flew open easily with a swish of her black wand.

She stepped into a narrow hall way, barred cell doors on each side… a guarding Auror had his wand pointed directly at her from the end of the hall.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ he bellowed.

She barely dodged, and hardly had her wand aimed at him before he shouted another spell in her direction.

"_Stupefy!"_

Bellatrix had been expecting this, trained by the Dark Lord himself she knew an easy way to counter, non verbally and without the use of an entire shield, simply flicking her wand the spell turned and went to other way, flying towards its caster, however Aurors were actually quite skilled it seemed, for the man cast a shield in front of himself and the spell flew into the ground, but this amount of time gave the Death Eater the time she needed. This man was too much of an annoyance to be killed outright, he had to pay!

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

A huge, deep gash appeared at the man's stomach, he dropped his want and clutched at it, as though he could staunch the bleeding from a wound so large, he fell to the ground, grunting in pain before he ceased to move, becoming weaker and weaker before he finally passed out from losing so much blood. The shadowy figures in their cells howled and cried triumphantly, and Bellatrix worked her way to releasing the first… once the cell door opened Fenrir Greyback and Amycus Carrow stepped out of their cell and breathed deeply as though the air in the hall way was sweeter than that of their cell.

"Hello Bellatrix." Greyback growled.

"Greyback, Carrow," Bellatrix acknowledged. "Would one of you take the Auror's wand and help me release these people?"

Both Death Eaters rushed to retrieve the wand; however Greyback was far too fast for Amycus, he retrieved it and both he and Bellatrix emptied the cells of Death Eaters. Alecto Carrow seemed to know where they stored prisoners wands, for she exited the corridor and strode down another, upon her arrival several more Death Eaters accompanied her and she was holding a huge stack of wands. After a few more minutes of releasing (which was very fast because of the number of people breaking enchantments) they had everyone out. Bellatrix led them to a dead end wall; each of them took aim with their wands.

"_EXPULSO!"_ Each Death Eater bellowed, the force of several dozens spells was powerful enough to break the enchantment, the wall exploded forward and they were free!

_**That was fun, probably not realistic but it was fun to write, it's like flashy James Bond HP style, no realism, just flashiness. I planned to have a lot more stuff in this chapter about people at Hogwarts reading about the breakout in the paper and whatnot… but I think I'll save it for next chapter.**_


	7. News of Azkaban

_**Originally Malfoy Manor scene was not going to be here, but after the breakout, and because Voldemort's plans are going further I thought I should add it. Thanks so much for the reviews! Also I'm just bringing up a small thing in this chapter while showing a few Death Eaters, I learned on wikipedia that Thorfin Rowle accidentally killed a Death Eater named Gibbon… I thought I might play with that idea, get some more killing curses out of my system…. Anyway in case you haven't noticed, a lot of the last few chapters have merely been filler. This one does have some filler in it but it has very important information… sort of, mostly about Voldemort and his plan, though it is not really information… more foreshadowing I guess, anyway enjoy.**_

_Chapter 7: News of Azkaban_

Malfoy Manor remained as quite as ever these days; its gate remained forever closed. Still no one was seen treading its straight drive, the hedges on either side had grown brown with death, and the carcasses of albino peacocks littered the ground as no one was around to feed them. It might seem as though no one lived there any longer, perhaps its occupants were all dead? No one, magical or muggle alike could discover the answer. If they Malfoys were all gravely ill as the story went then they enjoyed their privacy indeed, enchantments had been cast around the manor, enchantments so powerful that no one could possibly penetrate them, and no one knew that the Dark Lord now resided in the house, possessing the dead body of Lucius Malfoy.

On this exceptionally cool night (though fall was fast approaching) every occupant of the manor sat in its spacious living room. Lucius, with his fingers crossed, sat on an emerald green, velvet armchair. Lord Voldemort's red eyes glowed brightly in his eye sockets, his skin was sallow and washed out, as though he had died (he had of course) or else had not seen sunlight for several years. The other occupants of the house sat across the vast sofa. Draco, Narcissa, Pansy, and Scorpious watched their captor, the Dark Lord, intently. He seemed to be in deep thought, tonight, after all, was a very important night. Inexplicably, and quite suddenly Lucius's hand pulled out Voldemort's yew wand and aimed it at the ceiling. Extremely complex incantations flew from Lucius's lips, uttered in the Dark Lord's voice.

There was a slight haze which faded quickly, and seconds later the sounds of many quiet _pops_ filled the air. Suddenly the room was full of thin, sallow, and unkempt looking men in women (save for Bellatrix Lestrange who stood out in the mix because she was quite healthy looking), all clutching wands, and clad in thin prison garb. They all turned to face Lucius, who was now standing at Voldemort's will. Immediately each one fell into a deep bow, including Bellatrix, the Malfoys on the sofa stared, still reeling from the surprise of having several dozen people Apparate into their living room. Lucius's hand aimed Voldemort's wand at the ceiling once more, and again Voldemort's voice issued from Lucius's mouth, uttering complex incantations. As predicted a haze clouded everyone's vision, but faded quickly. Then Lucius turned and scanned them all with the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Welcome," Voldemort's voice hissed. "Twenty two long years it has been…."

"My lord!" one man in the group cried. "It is an honor to be in your presence again! We'd though you'd perished."

"Silence Avery, Lord Voldemort is not killed so easily. I have gone further than any Dark sorcerer in history down the path to immortality. Once more I remark… twenty two years, and here you all stand before me, in the body of dear Lucius. You've all come back to me… I must confess… I am… disappointed."

"But, my lord—"

"Silence Yaxley! All of you, hauled off to Azkaban like dogs when Harry Potter defeated me on the grounds of Hogwarts School itself! Not one of you attempted to escape, only dear Bella here managed…."

"Yes my lord!" Bellatrix shrieked passionately. "And I remained loyal to you all of these long years!"

"Indeed, and you assisted me by killing Lucius, so that I might gain full control of his body. Lord Voldemort rewards such deeds… however… he must punish ineptness. Though I am not without understanding, all of you were defeated, and most were wand-less, you have no choice but to be taken to Azkaban, and you stand here before me, alive and well, there is an accomplishment."

"Y-yes my lord! We survived! We're here, loyal to you now!" cried the slightly hunched form of Alecto Carrow.

"But… there is one that even the merciful Lord Voldemort cannot forgive." said Voldemort through Lucius. The scarlet eyes of the Dark Lord flicked to a Death Eater in the very back of the gruff group.

"ROWLE!" Voldemort bellowed pulling his wand. Each of his followed stood, extending their own wands toward Rowle who got up slowly, dropping his only weapon and slowly raising his hands in the air, as though no one would kill him if he did.

"M-my Lord!" Rowle stuttered. "I-I've always been l-loy—"

"It is not a question of your loyalty, but a… criticism of your… _aim_."

"I-I do not—"

"Your aim with a wand! Tell me exactly how poor Gibbon died." Voldemort demanded.

"G-Gibbon—"

"You killed him!" Bellatrix shrieked somewhat madly. "You killed Gibbon!"

"It was a-a mis—"

"A mistake?" Lucius's head titled to the side slightly, a sneer plastered on his sallow face. "Lord Voldemort cannot forgive such _mistakes_. Because of you one less Death Eater stands before me, unable to serve."

"But I am here!" Rowle said hopefully. "I am able so serve."

"No, you are not. This is a time of great importance; I cannot have a follower that is prone to _mistakes_, especially if these mistakes take the lives of one of my other followers. If Lord Voldemort allowed such ineptness what kind of leader would he be?"

"But—please f-forgive me my lord!" Rowle cried desperately. Scorpious looked away, he knew what to expect….

"No, no I think not Rowle. I must rid myself of inept wand wielders such as yourself."

"My lord!" cried Rudolphus Lestrange. "My lord, please, allow me the humble service of killing him. I have always been loyal to you, it will give me great pleasure to murder this man who has murdered one of my fellows!"

"No!" Fenrir Greyback growled. "Let me my lord, I've not had any meat for years! Even if it is the meat of Rowle… much less sweet… still tasty…."

"NO!" Bellatrix shrieked crazily. "I've been most loyal to you! Please _my lord _allow me to rid you of this annoyance! I beg you to let me serve! Please!"

"Dear Bella, have you forgotten about your next task?"

"Oh… no my lord, never!"

"Good, will killing _him_ not satisfy you? Must you kill Rowle as well?" Voldemort inquired, prompting looks of slight confusion from the rest of the Death Eaters.

"No! No! Killing _him _will satisfy me my lord!"

"I thought it would, do not waste your power on this clumsy traitor."

"Then allow me!" Rudolphus cried. "Please, my wife gives up the opportunity for someone else, so allow me to kill Rowle!"

"I think not my husband." said Bellatrix tonelessly as though she did not even know she was married to this man. "I believe the Dark Lord has other ideas."

"You are correct Bella." Voldemort hissed, Lucius's head turned to look upon the Malfoy family.

"Scorpious!" Voldemort snapped. "Perhaps you would do the honor of killing Rowle?"

"NO!" Narcissa shrieked hysterically. "My grandson will not commit murder tonight!"

"Spoken like a true volunteer!" Yaxley chuckled.

"Indeed," Voldemort agreed. "Will you, Narcissa, kill Rowle? Redeem yourself…."

"No." Narcissa stated indefinitely.

"No?" Lucius's eyebrow quirked. "Very well… Lord Voldemort wastes not his time on filth like you Rowle. Anyone who wishes… kill him."

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _rang the voices of everyone in the room except for Bellatrix (who had been appeased with the promise to kill another, much more important), Narcissa, Draco, Pansy, Lord Voldemort, and Scorpious who turned away from the horrible sight as dozens of blinding flashes of green light lit up the semi dark room, a deafening whoosh… and then a dull thump. Rowle lay ridiculously sprawled upon the floor, his body… smoking from the impact of all the Killing Curses… his face contorted in pain… perhaps it hurt to be hit with so many….

"Very well," Lord Voldemort said quietly as the Death Eaters stowed their wands. "Bellatrix, are you ready for your next task?"

"Yes my lord!"

"Good, but for now we must wait until the opportune moment, come now, my loyal servants, Narcissa will make you all a hot meal, and I'm sure Mrs. Pansy Malfoy here will whip up a large batch of hot tea. Scorpious, fetch wine, Draco… dispose of Rowle. Come my servants, eat and drink to your freedom, and for the reign of Lord Voldemort to come!"

XxX

Albus, Phil, Hugo, and Rose soon began to realize that homework in third year was as hard and numerous as ever, especially from Professors McGonagall and Longbottom. McGonagall wanted them to work on transfiguring pocket watches into working silver whistles while Longbottom wanted a ten inch report on Venomous Tentacula. Rose was loaded with even more homework then all of them put together because of Arithmancy (and she did not seem to have the slightest problem with her mother teaching it, nor did she mind Charms, Hugo on the other hand positively dreaded it as Ron usually pestered him to get the spells right and encircling both Rose and Hugo like an angry hawk, ensuring they paid attention and perfectly cast whatever charm he told them to perform). On top of all this Albus was totally distracted waiting for the results of the Qudditch tryouts, he remembered his father telling him that usually results were given at the tryouts, however over the years Professor McGonagall had become increasingly harsh on cutting people and insisted that the captain take a week to pick who exactly would be given each position.

Naturally Albus found sleep difficult the night before the morning that results would be posted, so he stayed up until three in the morning overdoing his essay for Longbottom and ensuring that he could completely transfigure his pocket watch, finally his insomnia ceased and he immediately fell asleep in the common room. He was awoken the next morning by a very excited Hugo who insisted he promptly look at the notice board. There the results were posted on a large piece of parchment which read,

_Gryffindor Quidditch Tryout Results_

_Keeper— Geoffrey Wood_

_Chasers— James Potter (returning, and captain), Thomas Bourne, and Demelza Wood_

_Beaters— Eliza Bell and Brian McAvery_

_Seeker—Albus Potter_

_The first practice is scheduled for next week Saturday at eight o'clock sharp, just after breakfast._

Albus nearly fainted; he was seeker just like his father! He could barely wait for Saturday.

Saturday came in the form of a cloudy, cold, and rainy day. Albus had attended Divination class they day prior to and the aging Professor Trelawney had immediately predicted his impending doom to take the place the next day, Albus couldn't help but think that the rain and clouds were bad omens. However he soon discovered it went along surprisingly well because James suggested they all cast the Impervious charm on their faces to prevent rain from minimizing their visibility. Despite the cold that practice was the most fund Albus had had since… summer at the Burrow with James, Lily, Rose, and Hugo as well as his parents. Plus Hugo's grandmother Molly was a superb cook…. However he concentrated less on that and more on circling the pitch and attempting to catch a glimpse of gold in the rain streaked air. He was barely aware if whatever else was going on, but he noticed that the beaters were particularly excellent. Finally he caught a slight glimpse of gold near the ground in the very middle of the pitch.

He dove like a hawk, ready to latch talons upon its prey and caught the Snitch easily. James praised him, saying that was the fastest he'd ever seen it done. True, Albus hadn't even realized that practice had only been going on for three minutes. He released the snitch and caught it thrice more before practice ended, each time it was increasingly difficult, as though the snitch was beginning to learn his tactics. He relished the challenge however and was even happy to finish the rest of his homework for the weekend that night Sunday was as dull and gray as Saturday had been, all the same he was still happy as he had more Quidditch practice, James insisted they get it in whenever they could as the Slytherins constantly stole the pitch. He was, however, slightly disappointed walking down the marble staircase to the Great Hall for breakfast Monday as he had no practice to look forward to, only lessons, though it was a beautifully warm morning, uncommon since fall was fast approaching….

Albus took a seat at the Gryffindor table between Hugo and Phil, across from Rose. He glanced at the staff table as the morning post came in, Hermione, he noticed, was busy checking work as she drank her morning coffee, Ron was talking with Professor Longbottom whilst shooting suspicious looks at Hugo as though he should be studying like Rose who was indeed pulling a random book out every now and then. Albus glanced up as a particularly ugly barn owl flew towards Rose, landing on the table precariously to someone's pumpkin juice. He dropped the morning addition of the _Daily Prophet _in front of Rose who absentmindedly grabbed it and stuck a Knut into a pouch tied to the owl's leg; it stole a bit of toast from Hugo who cursed angrily causing Ron to sprint over to them as the owl took flight.

"Oi! Hugo! No cursing in the Great Hall, ten points from Gryffindor!" Ron snapped irritably. "Why aren't you studying like your sister?"

"Dad…" Hugo grumbled as several people around him sniggered, Albus included, though it was not intentional. Ron snapped something about it being important for him to pass his exams (despite the fact he did not care too much about it himself in school) and then blundered off in a foul mood toward his seat at the staff table, a group of Slytherins laughed and pointed at Hugo who scowled and pushed his toast away.

"Dad's a right nutter when it comes to education…" he muttered.

"Yeah." Albus agreed absentmindedly as he picked up his goblet for a drink.

"I don't know why you think it's so bad." Rose commented as she began to unroll the _Prophet_. "Dad always lectures me but I agree with him, we should all study hard, this is school after all."

"You sound like mum." Hugo grumbled.

Albus was expecting some retort from Rose but he muttered a curse word as he spilled pumpkin juice down his front when she suddenly gasped. Phil grinned, holding back his laughter, Albus shot him an angry look as he attempted to mop the juice off his shirt, then he looked irritably at Rose.

"What is it?" he snapped.

"There's been a mass breakout from Azkaban!" Rose squeaked. Suddenly everyone at the table within earshot was quite interested, even Hugo who seemed to completely forget about his father embarrassing him moments ago.

"Well go on," Phil prodded. "What's it say?"

"'_Last week Friday evening there was an apparent mass breakout from the most secure wizarding prison Azkaban, Ministry of Magic officials have only just released the news late last night in a press conference with Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley.'" _Rose began. "And then it's just a great long speech detail about Percy vowing to catch the escaped prisoners… hold on… alright. '_Escapees include only known Death Eaters, among who include the feared werewolf Fenrir Greyback as well as dozens of others. The Ministry believes this is not an isolated incident since no non Death Eaters escaped, best estimates believe that Bellatrix Lestrange is attempted to gather up the other followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—"_

"Oh come on!" Albus snapped irritably. "He's dead now, why cant people just call him Voldemort?"

Several Gryffindors winced and once snapped at Albus to be quiet. Rose continued to read.

"'— _to carry out his plans and possibly take over the Ministry of Magic, though Auror Dean Thomas dismissed this as a credible threat._

"' _Several guarding Aurors of Azkaban were killed, evidence shows that the Cruciatus Curse was used on at least one, possibly for information on how to bypass certain security enchantments. Also it seems the savage brutes that escaped killed on of their own, the body of escapee Thorfin Rowle was found near Surry only three days ago, his body showed signs of being hit by not one, but several dozen Killing Curses. The Ministry warns that all escapees (whose pictures and descriptions can be found on page C-7) are highly dangerous and are not to be approached by any means. If you see one of these Death Eaters report it to the Auror office at once. A reward of one thousand Galleons has been offered for information on any Death Eaters, and two thousand Galleons have been offered for information on their suspected leader Bellatrix Lestrange (see photo on page C-7). The _Prophet_ will continue to report on this investigation, Rita Skeeter will attempt to interview head of the Auror office Harry Potter sometime today about the breakout.'"_

"Well don't expect an interview from dad then." Albus said irritably as Rose concluded. "Dad always said Rita Skeeter wrote nothing but rubbish, he says all her accounts about Severus Snape in her biography about him were not true."

"Yeah, all Rita Skeeter writes is trash, I've seen some of her articles about the Triwizard Tournament your father took part in." said Rose dismissively. "Still, do you think these Death Eaters pose a real threat?"

"I suppose they do." Hugo put in.

"Well Bellatrix Lestrange is certainly dangerous." Phil bit icily. "She tortured my gran and my grandpa into madness."

"Didn't they share a ward with Gilderoy Lockhart?!" squeaked a girl to Albus's left. "He was a great wizard in his time before his memory was wiped."

"He was a fraud!" Phil, Albus, Hugo, and Rose snapped in unison.

"Do you reckon that Smith'll pound down Defense Against the Dark Arts work?" Hugo asked nervously. "McGonagall and Longbottom give us enough homework already!"

"Dunno…" Albus trailed off, glancing up at their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Avery Smith, an Auror the headmaster Kingsley Shacklebolt had appointed. He was reading a copy of the _Daily Prophet _intently, and knowing him he would definitely use the mass breakout as an excuse to work them overtime in his class….

"And we have Defense Against the Dark Arts next!" Hugo groaned.

"And a double period." Rose pointed out.

"Great." Hugo grumbled.

Indeed, Professor Smith was every bit intent on using the mass breakout as an excuse to work them overtime in their Defense Class. The moment class began Smith launched into a lecture about being prepared for certain dangers such as Death Eaters and that they would need a good knowledge of defense and magic and whatnot, most of it Albus found incomprehensible as he could not keep up with the speed at which Smith was talking. It went on like this for the entire first half of the period before Smith revealed the lesson he would be teaching them today.

"So," said Smith eagerly. "in light of these recent events I will be teaching you a very useful spell for your personal defense. Normally you are not taught this for a while… but I think it is prudent that you learn now."

Albus was expecting something incredibly hard and complex and was not looking forward to it at all. Rose, however, could not seem to take the suspense, her hand shot into the air after Smith finished his sentence as the professor eagerly called on her.

"Yes Ms. Weasley?" he asked.

"Professor, what exactly will you be teaching us?" Rose asked as eagerly as Smith. They seemed to be the only two excited about whatever complex spell Smith was about to make them do.

"The Stunning Spell!" Smith practically shouted. Rose smiled happily and pulled out her was so fast it nearly snapped when it accidentally hit her desk.

"Stunning spell eh?" Hugo asked in Albus's ear. "Sounds like something we can use against Zabini or Goyale…"

"Yeah," Albus replied absentmindedly as Smith spoke again.

"The Stunning Curse, Stupefy, is a valuable spell in your defense arsenal, when used properly it will… well obviously you know because of the name, it will stun your opponent. I've had to use this spell a number of times in my day as an Auror." Smith said reminiscently. "Well I've just told you in incantation, please divide into pairs of two and cast the spell at your partner."

Smith flicked his wand enthusiastically as the class sat up, their desks flew to either side of the room and they lined up on either side forming two columns, each partner facing the other, Albus faced Hugo, standing next to Rose who was facing some girl whose last name was Davis, or at least Ablus thought it was.

Smith stood at the head of the two rows, watching eagerly.

"Begin!" he cried.

"_Stupefy!"_ Albus called in unison with Rose and several others. A feeble jet of red light shot out of the tip of his wand and disappeared quickly. Rose however successfully cast the spell, stunning Davis. Most everyone else had produced the same result as Ablus, they all glared at Rose angrily, most especially the Slytherins.

"Excellent!" Smith cried. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Now other side have a go!"

There were more cries of "_Stupefy!"_ however the other side of the room was no better then Albus… Phil actually seemed to do the best, the slow moving jet of crimson light he cast flew toward his partner but eventually extinguished before it got too close. Hugo, if it was possible did worse then Thomas Goyale who only managed to produce a single red spark; Hugo's was a bit more like a puff of smoke.

This continued for a while. Each time Albus's side attempted Rose stunned Davis, and Albus had to admitted that he was getting a lot better, each time Hugo's side tried no one was hit, but the class was steadily improving as the hour wound down, finally Albus succeeded and more points were awarded to Gryffindor. He left the lesson that day with an eccentric Rose and a disappointed Hugo; Smith's lesson had got him thinking… who exactly facilitated that mass breakout?"

XxX

Work had been horrible, absolutely exhausting. Job as head Auror was no easy task, especially with everything he had to do about that mass breakout, half the Auror office had to be sent to Azkaban to repair the damage and reinforce protective enchantments, not to mention just about ever single reporter from the _Daily Prophet _had approached him, asking for an interview. Ginny had apologized for it all as she worked for the paper but it didn't much make Harry feel better.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" cried a feminine voice. Harry suspected Umbridge for a fleeting moment but when he turned around he was facing Rita Skeeter.

"What do you want?" Harry asked rudely before he could help himself.

"I was wondering if I might have a word." said Rita, pulling out an acid green quill and a piece of parchment, several people stopped to stare at the two, after all it was an odd place to conduct an interview… in the middle of the Ministry of Magic Atrium.

"I've had several words with you over the years Rita and none of them appeared in the articles you wrote following. So if you'll excuse me I'll be going." Harry snapped, leaving Rita Skeeter behind in the Atrium, utterly livid.

_**Okay, so you're wondering why I bothered to have that scene with Rita and Harry. You'll find out in the next chapter. I already established Rita writes more crap then ever now for the Prophet.**_ _**By the way this is the longest chapter I've written for this fic so far. Also you'll be happy to know that there's more Voldemort to come in the next chapter, though at the end, he and Bellatrix get to have some more leg room to be evil. Lastly… I've been thinking, I think I like the Harry/Hermione pairing better then Harry/Ginny…. My next fic might include that, after all this is only my take on a book 8, and there was only two things I felt I could change without going into like Alternate Universe territory, number one was Bellatrix, number two was Voldemort's other Horcrux. **_


	8. The Disappearance

_**I'm ve**__**ry happy **__**with the number of reviews I am getting and how many people have this story on their alerts and favorites. Anyway I've been thinking… I was wondering if I should squeeze Teddy Lupin in somehow… but… this takes place like 22 years after Deathly Hallows so that means he's like 22…. I don't know, do you think I should put him in? Also, I think something very bad may happen to Dolores Umbridge in this fic, I specifically brought her in because I wanted to work something bad happening to her somewhere…. Also let's just say, for the sake of it that Rose and Hugo are twins, maybe not identical, I don't know. Rowling wasn't very specific, I like the idea of them being twins though, I think they'd both be Albus's friends in school, even if they are related. Also I don't think the book specifically mentioned Antonin Dolohov as being killed, only that he was defeated by Flitwick, or am I wrong? Was he killed?**_

_Chapter 8: The Disappearance _

"I can't believe this!" Rose cried unexpectedly from behind her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ causing Albus to drop his toast and Hugo to spill pumpkin juice all down his front.

"Damn it! What the bloody hell is up with you?!" Hugo snapped a little too loudly, Hermione happened to be walking by at the time. She stopped directly behind her son looking extremely cross, Albus, who was sitting across from Hugo and next to Rose tried to hold back his laughter at the look on Hermione's face, and how Hugo was just about to spill more pumpkin juice on himself.

"Hugo Arthur Bilius Weasley!" Hermione cried, causing Hugo to indeed spill even more pumpkin juice down his front, several Gryffindor's sniggered, and the Slytherin table burst into laughter. Hermione's voice had carried all throughout the Great Hall, Hugo's ears were now a scarlet color.

"Mum," Hugo half gulped as he said it and turned to face Hermione, the look on his face was a mixture of embarrassment, nervousness, and anger.

"I will not have you using the word damn!" Hermione shrieked hysterically, nearly everyone in the hall, including the staff was staring at her and Hugo.

"Mum…" Hugo muttered in embarrassment.

"No excuses Hugo Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor—" Hermione was cut off by the Slytherin's raucous laughter. She spun on her heel to face their table and shouted all the way across the hall. "— continue laughing and I will dock thirty points from Slytherin!"

Slughorn groaned slightly, but then the hall became considerably quieter with only Hermione's piercing shrieks filling the air.

"But _mum_!"

"HUGO WEASLEY! YOU KNOW THAT I DO NOT PERMIT CURSING AT IN MY CLASSES NOR DO I WISH TO HEAR IT FROM MY OWN SON AT BREAKFAST! IF I HEAR ANOTHER SWEAR WORD COME FROM YOUR MOUTH I'LL GIVE YOU DETENTION WITH MR. FILCH FOR A WEEK, DON'T GIVE ME—"

"No!" Rose cried, having been reading her copy of the _Daily Prophet _the entire time.

"What—" Hermione trailed off, glanced at Rose, Albus followed her gaze and saw the article she was reading. He found himself staring at a small picture of his father, smiling lightly at him from above an article following one about the mass breakout at Azkaban, he barely read the headline before Hermione snatched it from Rose's hand.

Her eyes seemed to shoot from side to side in their sockets as she read the article, and with each line her face grew more stony and angry.

"Ugh! I can't believe this, she's done it again!" Hermione snapped, mostly to herself.

"Did what?!" Albus asked curiously, and with frustration. What was going on? All he knew was that it had to do with his father, and for that reason he deserved to know.

"She's insulted Harry again!" Hermione snapped angrily. "I cannot believe she is still writing for the _Prophet_! Her rubbish biographies about Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry must've given her credit! Oh, I've just got to show Ron this."

And with that Hermione trotted off angrily to the staff table and sat down next to her husband, leaving Albus utterly confused, Hugo embarrassed, Phil indifferent to anything but his pile of hotcakes, and Rose reeling with shock from the article she'd read.

"Whazzgoinon?" Ron asked his mouth full from an assortment of breakfast food. He could see clearly that his wife was irritated when she stormed up to him with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. However, asking her this with his mouth nearly overflowing with chewed chunks of toast, eggs, and bacon just seemed to throw her further into her bad mood.

"Honestly Ronald, you're a _professor_, you cannot eat like that in front of the students, it'll set a bad example."

"Yursezzing dastudentsaba exmple oralleast Ugo! Yucursse likalunatica home!"

"What?"

"I said," Ron snapped gulping down his food. "that you are setting Hugo a bad example, you curse a bloody hell of a lot at home."

"Oh… just shut up and look at this." Hermione snapped, shoving the paper in front of him.

"Whaizzit?" Ron asked, his mouth once more full of food.

"Will you just read it?!" Hermione hissed.

"Fine!"

Ron's eyes trailed down to the front page article of the _Daily Prophet_, a large picture of Harry smiled lightly up at him, the article, by Rita Skeeter so read:

_**HARRY POTTER, CAPABLE AUROR HEAD?**_

_As anyone who read the front page article in the _Prophet_ yesterday will know there has been a mass breakout from the nigh impregnable Azkaban Fortress. Many known Death Eaters escaped, confirmed reports suggest the list includes Fenrir Greyback, Rudolphus and Rabastian Lestrange, Walden Macnair, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood, this list includes several others (whose pictures and descriptions can be seen on page D-3). Suspected for releasing these Death Eaters is Bellatrix Lestrange, currently this news paper is doing most everything it can to keep the citizens of the Wizarding World informed about this matter. However, Head Auror Harry Potter is not making it any easier for us._

_I attempted to question Mr. Potter late last night, he refused to comment, rudely turning me down, and uttering a number of quite insulting things to me. This makes me question, as the public should. Is the ministry trying to cover this up in any way? Or the more likely scenario, is Mr. Potter refusing to allow the Wizarding Public information on this matter? Information that we ought to know? This reporter believes so, and it is open for debate. However we must examine the facts. Mr. Potter had refused to give information to two people who so courteously asked him for it so as to inform the public, these two individuals being myself and Ms. Dolores Umbridge. Mr. Potter has not held any sort of press conference to answer questions that the Wizarding world has a right to ask, nor has he provided any information about the escapees or their whereabouts, information we have a right to know._

_So this brings up the ultimate question? Is Mr. Potter fit to run the Auror office? Let's delve back into his past a bit._

Ron could read no more. He had not taken a bite of food within the last few seconds which was highly unusual. His ears and cheeks were scarlet with rage. No wonder Hermione looked irritated; he didn't understand how she could remain so calm though, she must be as furious as him.

"People cant… actually believe this rubbish." he practically hissed.

"No, I doubt anyone would be so deluded as to believe that. Harry was the best thing to ever happen to the Auror Office, there's hardly been any crime in years, if anything he's not answering questions because he's so busy looking in to it. Or because Rita Skeeter and _Umbridge _are both foul old gargoyles!"

"Ginny's on the Prophet, why isn't Rita Skeeter fired?!"

"Honestly Ronald Weasley! Don't you know your own sister's job? She's Quidditch Correspondent! She doesn't have the power to fire—"

"I mean why hasn't she given us a reason Skeeter hasn't been fired? Even if she doesn't run the stupid paper? Percy gave us the reason Umbridge wasn't sacked, it's because she's loyal to the Ministry and useful, that's rubbish by the way, Ginny never gave us a reason, she should know!"

"Oh do shut up! We shouldn't be arguing about this we need to support Harry."

XxX

It was a week later from the time Rita Skeeter had published her cock and bull story about him in the _Prophet_, most everyone in the Ministry sided with Harry and didn't believe a word, but there were still not anti Dumbledore people out there who were quite keen to side with Rita Skeeter, and some, Umbridge was the most pronounced, believed him unfit to run the Auror Office. Harry was used to this type of treatment, all the stares he received… but these were much less worse, he'd been through that issue with the Chamber of Secrets first, then when Cedric Diggory died and he announced Voldemort's return… that might have been the worst of it, not to mention when people believed him about Voldemort coming into power once more. Yes, these stares he received at the Ministry were barely a bother, except for Umbridge who insisted on making his life terrible whenever she got the chance, whether it be striking up conversations with him that were clearly an attempt to make him lash out in anger, or whether she provided snide hints to him that he ought to be working harder on the investigation of the deaths of Alexey Dashkov and Thorfin Rowle.

He was trying his very best, and he suspected Bellatrix Lestrange just like everyone else… and even so, an unconscious part of him began to nag that the Malfoys had something to do with it, he suspected it so much sometimes that he almost half considered obtaining a warrant to search their property, after all Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy were sisters, along with Andromeda Tonks, but she'd never harbor Bellatrix. Tonks… he still felt terribly for Lupin occasionally, whenever Teddy came over for dinner. Teddy worked at the Ministry as well, though Harry rarely saw him.

Harry Potter sat now in the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place reading the morning paper and scowling at the small articles about exploding teacups being set on the porches of Muggles, probably practical jokes by young wizards, event though it was nigh impossible for Rita to squeeze in derogatory, stupidly critical, or snide remarks about him in these articles he found that he hated them still.

"Would master Harry Potter like coffee this morning?" croaked the voice of Kreacher below him. Harry looked down, distracted from his reading.

"Oh, sure Kreacher, I suppose." said Harry, caught off guard, despite the fact he had coffee every morning.

"Right away master, Kreacher knows the trouble his master is facing, oh yes, Kreacher knows," the house elf muttered as he poured the coffee. "Oh yes, dirty Skeeter woman writing trash about master, Kreacher would like to strangle that sneaky little reporter, oh yes. What would poor Master Regulus have done if he was an Auror like Master Harry? What would he say to Kreacher if he was…"

Harry never found out what exactly Kreacher said next, the word Auror rang a bell in his head. He'd been planning for the last two days to meet with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Avery Smith about these murders, he wanted to enforce extra security at Hogwarts, nothing was more important to him, plus it would shut Skeeter up for a while which was good as well. He pointed his wand at the ground and thought of Rita Skeeter and Dolores Umbridge getting sacked.

"_Expecto Patronum!" _he said loudly whilst relaying the message he wanted to send in his head, two silver stags burst from the tip of his wand and glided off in separate directions to carry his words to Kingsley and Smith.

"Here you are Master Harry." said Kreacher whilst handing Harry a steaming goblet of coffee. "Kreacher knows coffee makes people wakey wakey, yes, Master Harry needs his coffee to deal with fat toad lady and nosy beetle reporter, Kreacher knows!"

Kreacher then launched into a mumbling, babbling volley of insults directed towards Umbridge, and Skeeter as Harry gulped his hot coffee. And then, quite suddenly, a brown barn owl dropped out of the chimney and into the fire place, it righted itself, flew out, and landed near Harry's plate, spilling copious amounts of ash onto the kitchen floor. Kreacher immediately forgot about Umbridge and Rita and began to send insults at the owl.

"You dirty owl! Dirtying up Master Harry's floor, Kreacher ought to strangle you and feed little bitsy pieces of plucked owl to mousies in the basement, see how owls like being fed to mice! Oh yes, dirty owl, ash everywhere… what would poor mistress Ginny say if she could see the floor now?!"

"Kreacher, will you please be quiet." said Harry not unkindly as he untied and ashy letter from the owl's leg.

"Oh yes Master Harry, Kreacher will clean the kitchen floor right away." Kreacher said, falling into a deep bow. He shot the owl a murderous look as it flew back out of the chimney. Harry smiled and opened the letter, it was from Albus.

_Dad,_

_I got the seeker position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as you know, our first match is this Saturday. We're playing Slytherin, hopefully you can come._

_Albus_

Harry had nearly forgotten, fall was just now approaching, and the Quidditch season had begun. He decided he would indeed make it a point to watch the match this Saturday.

XxX

Harry sat before Kingsley Shacklebolt and Avery Smith in his office, they were right on time, not late at all. He decided to begin quickly and get pleasantries out of the way.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Harry asked. "Firewhisky?"

"No thank you." Kinsley's low, deep voice replied.

"I don't drink before noon." Smith said.

"Very well," said Harry. "Let me skip right to the point, I called you here because I want security at Hogwarts heightened."

"Do you believe the Death Eaters are a credible threat?" Smith asked.

"They killed one of their own, and whoever it was that let them out murdered an Azkaban employee, not to mentioned brutally killed several of our Aurors and even tortured at least one, yes, I believe they are a very credible threat."

"Your son'd sure show 'em." Smith said proudly. "He does cast a mean Stunning Spell."

"That's good," said Harry a bit more happily. "Well I have your words on it? You'll do whatever you can? Raise up the night watches, monitor the secret passageways… whatever you can to make Hogwarts a little more safe?"

"Yes, you have my word as headmaster Harry, I will not let you down. I'll die first." Kingsley said.

"Alright, that's all I wanted to say, I'm sure you have business to attend to."

XxX

Over the next week Albus's anticipation grew. He suspected James was feeling the pressure as he had insisted on practicing every night. Albus didn't know why, to say the Gryffindor Qudditch team was good was an understatement, in his opinion they were great. Even Professor McGonagall seemed to think so, she had a glow about her that Friday night, sitting next to Hagrid and the empty chair of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Albus had been wondering where he might have gone. He had not seen him since the start of the week. He pushed that out of his mind as he hungrily ate his dinner, filling himself up as much as possible, his nerves were so great now that he wasn't sure he'd be able to eat even tomorrow. Dinner ended and Albus walked off t bed early. The last thoughts he had before falling asleep were of Qudditch and of the location of Kingsley Shacklebolt… where was he?

XxX

Kingsley Shackbolt's screams echoed through the mansion of the Malfoy's, even from the cellar it his cried of pain were not muffled. A wave of a yew wand and his pain instantly vanished. He spat on the shoes of the man before him and looked into the scarlet eyes of Lord Voldemort, resting in the sockets of Lucius Malfoy.

"Allow me my Lord!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked behind him. "Perhaps I can coax it out of him."

"Silence Bella, you'll have your time soon enough." Voldemort hissed. "I shall ask you again Kingsley Shacklebolt, what do you know of the Chamber of Secrets?!"

"Nothing! I've told you already, just kill me now!"

"Oh but you will die, though you are unworthy to be killed by Lord Voldemort, you will die Shacklebolt, oh yes, once I am satisfied. I ask again, had anything been recovered from the Chamber of Secrets? A sword… I seek a sword from the lair of the basilisk, has it been found, has it been desecrated by the touch of one unworthy of Salazar Slytherin?! HAS IT BEEN FOUND?!"

"I don't know anything about a sword! I've never seen the damn Chamber! Kill me now Voldemort, you bastard!"

"YOU—YOU—FILTHY HALF-BLOOD! YOU DARE SPEAK THE NAME OF MY _LORD_!" Bellatrix shrieked hysterically. "YOU MUST PAY! THIS GREAT—INSOLENCE! MY LORD SHALL NOT HAVE IT! I SHALL NOT LET HIS NAME BE INSULTED!"

The mad looking witch aimed her wand directly at Kingsley's sweat drenched face.

"_AVA--"_

"NO BELLA!" Voldemort cried. Lucius black sleeved arm pushed her wrist down, so that her wand was aimed at the floor. "I'm not yet satisfied."

"_My Lord_! Please forgive me, I cannot let your name be spoken by the lips of the unworthy!"

"It is of no consequence… Lord Voldemort's name has been insulted by filth before, when the famous Boy Who Lived defeated me… a baby with no extraordinary magical talent, protected by old magic…. And then… at Hogwarts, he won because my mistake. The Elder Wand was commanded only by him… I will not so easily overlook details in the future." Voldemort hissed to himself. Lucius's sallow face swung back to look upon Kingsley.

"The Chamber… has it been opened?"

"Kill me!"

"_Legilimens!"_

Kingsley's head felt as though it was exploded, as though some invisible force was tearing it open, searching through his inner thoughts for a glimpse of what it so feared to see. The pain was unbearable, worse than the Cruciatus Curse, he must fight it, he must defeat it, or he must die trying! And then it stopped, his mind was his own again.

"It is intact… as I knew it would be, Lord Voldemort always knows…. Do with him what you will…" Lucius's hand waved airily, and with a swish of a cloak Lord Voldemort directed it up the stairway. Bellatrix shrieked raucously and aimed the tip of her wand right between Kingsley's eyes.

"You've disgraced the Dark Lord's name Shacklebolt! You will pay!"

"You'll pay one day too Bellatrix, for following _him_, mark my words…."

"_He_ is my life! I live only for him! I live only to serve the greatest of sorcerers! And it is not I that is about to die… no, it isn't, is it Shacklebolt? It's a defenseless, old Auror, follower of Harry Potter, and he doesn't even know you're here. He doesn't even know you're about to die."

"Finish it then! Kill me you b—"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Kingsley's last word was etched upon his lips and a confident, and fierce growl, but it never left as he fell to the floor, dead instantly.


	9. Murder at the Match

_**Have I explained why I killed Kingsley? I cant remember. Well, the only reason is that I like McGonagall better, so I made Kingsley headmaster with the intent to kill him, why I did that will be revealed… in this chapter actually. Though I'm almost positive it was revealed in the summary….. **_

_Chapter 9: Murder at the Match_

It felt wonderful to be at the Quidditch Pitch of Hogwarts again, despite the fact that he was not playing himself. Harry Potter sat in one of the teacher's boxes, decked out in Gryffindor colors of crimson and gold. It was a slightly gloomy day, but good playing conditions. To his right sat Professor McGonagall, and directly next to her was a boy Harry did not recognize, most obviously commentating, or so indicated the magical microphone before him. Ron sat to his left, and Hermione to Ron's left, Neville sat behind them all, along with a few dozen other teachers. Ginny, sadly could not make it because of her work for the _Prophet_.

Harry was not really thinking of her though, found it odd that Kingsley was not among them, when he'd called a meeting with Shacklebolt and Smith a week ago he'd told them everything he wanted, but he was meaning to speak to Kingsley about strengthening the Apparating wards, they were a bit weak, and he suspected if he concentrate hard enough he could break through them himself, that meant that a few very powerful wizards could as well, and not all of them would be friendly… where was he?

"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" the boy shouted into the microphone, his magnified voice echoing throughout the stands. He definitely had the voice for commentating, McGonagall had chosen excellently. "Today's game will be Slytherin versus Gryffindor, of which I am a proud member—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall shrieked, causing laughs to ring out in the stands. "No favoritism!"

So this was Lee Jordan's son? He did look a bit like him.

Jordan covered the microphone with a gloved hand and turned to McGonagall.

"How exactly what _that _favoritism, professor?"

"If you speak that way to me again Mr. Jordan I shall have to give you detention." McGonagall hissed threateningly. Jordan turned back to commentating.

"Right, so today's match is Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Here come the two teams now, the captains shake hands, James Potter for Gryffindor, and Cillian Montague for Slytherin! Now the players take positions as Madam Hooch begins the game. The Snitch is released, that one seems particularly fast, good luck to our two seekers, the bludgers are away, the quaffle is released and the game begins!"

Every player soared into the air. Harry watched closely as a Gryffindor chaser scored, the Slytherin keeper didn't seem particularly adept at his position. Jordan announced the score and the voices of Gyrffindors rang out in wild applause. Harry quickly looked to McGonagall, he felt he needed to ask this question to fully enjoy the game.

"Professor, have you seen Kingsley? I need to speak with him." Harry said as Gryffindor scored again. Albus was currently circling the field like a hawk; he passed their box as McGonagall turned to answer.

"You're no longer in school Mr. Potter, all me Minerva."

"Call me Harry then, so have you seen him?"

"No, I'm afraid not. When last I saw him, he was heading to London to meet with you, I was under the impression you'd sent him on a mission."

"WHAT?!" Harry cried more loudly then he had intended. McGonagall jumped slightly and Hermione gasped. Harry ignored them all, focusing on McGonagall who looked slightly baffled. "I did not send him anywhere. I instructed both he and Smith to return to Hogwarts and buff up security!"

"He didn't leave with me," Smith interjected over their shoulders. "He said he had to get something from his office, when he didn't return I assumed you called on him again."

"I didn't… so you haven't seen him in a week?"

"No…" McGonagall and Smith said in unison.

"Harry, I'm sure it's nothing to worry—" Hermione tried to say, but was cut off by a roaring bellow, or perhaps a sob…. A second later the giant form of Hagrid lumbered onto the field, carrying in his arms what looked like a blue bundle of cloth.

"STOP THE MATCH!" Hagrid bellowed. "MURDER! MURDER! In the forest… he was… I…"

Harry's eyes grew wide, no, it couldn't be. He immediately took off, heading down for the field, the teachers followed him, Hermione and Ron hot on his heels. The moment his foot fell from the last step to the grass Harry flew towards Hagrid, a small crowd of students were gathering around him and all the players had landed. The rest of the people on the stands were currently attempting to step onto the field. Harry pushed his way through the small group of students, brushing past Al and James along the way.

What he saw once he got past them horrified him… because it was what he had half expected. On the ground, before a kneeled and sobbing Hagrid was the body of Kingsley Shacklebolt, it reeked of death, his robes were torn and chunks of his skin were missing, along with his right arm and left leg where certain beasts had eaten him, probably werewolves… it was quite a gruesome sight. Harry didn't know what to do, what to say, several thousand things rushed through his mind at once.

The forest? Why would anyone hide a body so close to Hogwarts? Who killed him… Bellatrix… a Death Eater… a Malfoy? Did the murderer _want _Kingsley to be found? Harry was stood their transfixed in thought, he hadn't noticed that all students has been backed away a good fifty yards and a group of teachers and senior match attendants were gathered around Kingsley's body which was not covered in a plain black sheet.

Harry snapped out of his train of thought and strode up to where everyone was silently conversing with one another.

"Who could have done this?" McGonagall asked horrified, trying to sound as professional as possible but unable to keep the sadness out of her voice.

"Bloody hell, Kingsley…" Smith murmured. "I…"

"Where did you say you found him, Hagrid?" Harry suddenly asked plainly, all eyes turned on him, including Hagrid who was, for once, at his eye level since he was sitting on his knees, tears running down his face and into his gruff, black beard.

"I f-found him in the forest I did… jus'… jus' lying agains' a tree." Hagrid said through hiccups. "Look'd like… look'd like some animal ha' killed him!"

"I can safely say it was not an animal that killed him." Harry said expertly. "He was killed by the Avada Kedavra curse I'm sure… and I suspect all these murders…. We need to get his body away from here. He must be taken to the Ministry… for a… magical autopsy."

Hagrid burst into a fit a tears at this, Harry was full aware that what he said had just made Kingsley's death final, absolute, concrete, and undeniable fact…. He felt sick, but he knew he had to remain professional.

"H-Harry," Hermione gulped, tears streaming down her face as well. "We need to get the s-students away from here."

"Of course, of course." McGonagall muttered, mostly to herself. She pulled her wand from a pocket in her robes and touched it to her neck, she then muttered a quiet incantation and when she spoke next her voice echoed across the pitch.

"PREFECTS WILL LEAD THEIR HOUSES BACK TO THEIR DORMITORIES." McGonagall boomed. "THIS QUIDDITCH MATCH HAS BEEN CANCELLED; PLEASE EXIT THE FIELD IN AN ORDERLY FASSION AT ONCE."

There was a massive stirring a movement as the sad voices of prefects called to their houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… even the Slytherin prefect seemed despaired by this event. Harry looked back down at the covered body of Kingsley, terribly misshapen, missing an arm… leg….

"Now—" But Harry was cut off by the voice of Ron who ran up to join the circle of teachers and parents, Harry had not even noticed he had not been present.

"I've called the Auror Office Harry, we'll have some men here soon." he said gravely.

Harry nodded and took one last look at Kingsley's covered body, all he could think was: who could have done this?

XxX

_**MURDER!**__** IN THE FOREST OF HOGWARTS ITSELF, HEADMASTER KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT DEAD**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Breaking news has just been released. It appears that, three days ago, during a Quidditch match between Hogwarts houses Slytherin and Gryffindor gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid discovered the dead, mutilated body of Headmaster Kingsley Shacklebolt in the Forbidden Forest on the grounds of Hogwarts School itself. The gamekeeper was asked for comment on this issue, but was unavailable. However, Auror Avery Smith, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts agreed to comment for me._

"_At this time we have no suspects in the murder. The Auror Office is fully investigating this matter further. It is true that Headmaster Shacklebolt was found in the forest by Hagrid, but that is all the information we have. As of now we suspect that the murder… intended for the body to be found. We have absolutely no other information, but our efforts continue." said Smith the day following Shacklebolt's murder. He of course recited the company line of zero information which is doing nothing to ease the worries of Wizarding Parents._

"_First the Azkaban worker, then the escape of those Death Eaters and the murder of one of their own, and now Kingsley Shacklebolt! I'm shocked that a double homicide occurred and there are still no credible suspects, of course we all think it was the Death Eaters, I do, but there's nothing to prove it…. Still, whoever this murder is I no longer feel safe sleeping at night, and I can believe the Auror office has nothing!" said a parent of a student at Hogwarts who chose to remain anonymous. _

_This reporter, for one, agrees. The Auror office has held one press conference, led by Auror Dean Thomas who yielded few clues about the investigation. It makes one wonder if the Aurors are unable to solve this case at all. But is it their fault? Or is it the fault of their head, a Mr. Harry J. Potter?_

_Reliable sources reported that Head Auror Potter was in attendance of the Quidditch Match the day Shacklebolt was found. It appears that Mr. Potter even announced it seemed as though Shacklebolt was murdered by the Killing Curse, a fact later proved by the healers who preformed the magical autopsy. _

_So what is Mr. Potter hiding from us? Does he know something about these murders? Or does he know nothing at all? It is the opinion of many wizards and witches, myself being one of them, that Mr. Potter knows very little about who was involved in the murders. Some respected witches and wizards are now calling for the Auror Office to step up this investigation, or else for Mr. Potter to hand in his resignation. The Murder of Kingsley Shacklebolt is just too much, something needs to be done._

Harry threw the paper down on his wooden desk that his full mug of coffee shook violently, threatening to spill over and onto a jumbled mess or papers, most of which were reports that provided little information on anything. The Head Auror exhaled furiously and let out a little growl of anger. The worst part about that article was… some of it was true, to a degree. Yes, the Auror Office knew next to nothing about the murders, yes, they had no viable suspects, only Bellatrix Lestrange, but all they had to put that on was a hunch and eyewitness accounts from Azkaban, but those employees claiming to have seen her were mostly delusional anyway…. It was true that they were gaining very little, but they were doing much more than anyone would have thought possible. Most of the entire office was on the murder cases, examining clues, crime scenes, anything that might give them a lead. The first murder provided next to nothing, the second not much either, the murders at Azkaban also yielded few clues either, except that Bellatrix was possibly involved, strangely, and ironically enough Kingsley's murder provided the greatest detail so far.

It matched Bellatrix's MO. The magical autopsy reports indicated that Shacklebolt was tortured extensively, and Harry remembered a quote, perhaps from Dumbledore, or some other powerful wizard or Auror, "Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before finishing it,"…. The fact was they had a suspect, but they had no more leads, for all they knew Bellatrix Lestrange and her Death Eater cronies were out of the country, perhaps in Australia, torturing muggles in the deserts and leaving their bodies where no one would find them, or transfiguring them into the bones or dead animals…. She could be anywhere, and that was the Auror's failing.

Harry glanced back at the paper, seeing Kingsley's face looking back at him. He was glad when a knock at his office door sounded, a distracting to keep him from his thoughts. He allowed the visitor entry, and was hardly surprised to see Percy, the Minister of Magic step in.

"Hello minister," Harry said glumly. The last time Percy had come to see him was the day after Kingsley's death, making that what, two days ago? He had come to talk about putting up loads and loads of extra security at Hogwarts, which Harry had agreed to, going so far as to cast wards further into the Forbidden Forest, and quadruple the protection Hogwarts already had, now the enchantments securing the school were nearly past the caliber of those Dumbledore had once cast.

"Hello Harry," Percy said plainly.

"Take a seat," Harry offered. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, no, this won't take long." Percy replied. "I'll cut right to the point, Hogwarts is with out a headmaster, and the Wizengamot thought it prudent to put another high ranking Auror into the school in place of Kingsley, they voted yesterday in secret. It was decided that you would replace him."

"Me?!" Harry nearly yelled. "How the bloody hell do they come up with something like that. I'm the _Head _Auror! I run this bloody office! I can't run Hogwarts as well!"

"The fact is Harry," said Percy calmly. "The Wizarding public was nervous, and Kingsley's death did not do much for them…. Some people are starting to agree with Rita Skeeter's stance in the—"

"People can't possibly listen to her!"

"What else _can_ they do? You're not providing them with much information."

"That's because we've nothing concrete! Bellatrix Lestrange is our top suspect, but we need more evidence, and we don't even know where they might be!"

"Alright Harry, just calm down." Percy said firmly but kindly. Harry took a deep breath and desperately wanted to be alone, perhaps on a deserted tropical island, away from the world, from the murders, and the Death Eaters, and Bellatrix, and Umbridge, wherever she was….

"Now, you say the Wizengamot elected me?"

"Oh yes, even Umbridge voted in your favor." said Percy, not even bothering to use Umbridge's official title, which was usually his manner.

"What?!" Harry nearly yelled again, instead it came out in a kind of choked cry that went from thunderous to quiet in a matter of a second. He added in a more controlled manner, "why would she want me controlling Hogwarts?"

"Has Umbridge talked to you at all?"

"Yes."

"I thought she might have, she is a very horrible woman, it's amazing Kingsley let her keep her position when he was Minister…"

"Yeah," said Harry, doing his best to ignore Kingsley's name. "So what is the point of that?"

"Well it's no secret Umbridge wants you demoted, or worse sacked."

"So you think she voted me into that position because she wants me out of the Auror Office, or better yet, stretched in both jobs so I'll be sacked."

"Both, which is why I've named Dean Thomas your correspondent. He'll take your office here, and run everything at your discretion, and direct orders. You'll be able to function as Headmaster and Head Auror, no matter what Umbridge's intentions are. Of course you could turn down the offer since you were not consulted, and technically only 'nominated' but since there were no other nominees your were simply elected."

"It works that way?"

"Yes, that rule has not been amended for several centuries actually. Britain was once a monarchy, thus the old Ministry of Magic was a monarchy, of course our founding constitution was amended, so now it is more of a democracy because of the Wizengamot, though the Minister still decides how best to rule… it's a bit complicated. But if you study Ministry history very carefully…"

"You find that most ministers were corrupt and that they kept those rules in to gain more power." Harry finished.

"I suppose." Percy said crisply, as though he had wanted to delve back into the past and examine Ministry procedures… a favorite activity of his it seemed.

"Will you take the job? You have no obligation to technically…."

"I'll take it; Hogwarts needs all the protection it can get with these murders, especially if one was committed so close." Harry said, and added quickly. "Though we're unable to determine if Kingsley was murdered in the forest or elsewhere."

"Very good, but Harry, don't forget, work as hard as possible on the murder cases. The fact is, some people are vying to kick you out of your position as Head Auror, and when you make the move to stretch yourself as Headmaster, the public won't be very happy, which is what Umbridge wants."

"I know, with any luck we'll have a lead within the next week or so."

XxX

No lead came, a week later when winter began to show itself in the form of frosty mornings the Auror office was still no closer to Bellatrix Lestrange, or the escaped Death Eaters, but Harry was in Hogwarts now, and a string of _Prophet _articles by Rita Skeeter heavily criticized the move, most of they recommended Harry be sacked as head Auror and the job be given to Dean Thomas who Rita had apparently found out was Harry's correspondent but that Harry should retain his position of Headmaster as he still had (quoted from an article) "brains and power enough for that. Though he'll never match up to any headmaster before him…"

Harry cancelled his subscription to the paper and made a point of avoiding it from that point onward, though he suspected he'd never be oblivious to the articles, no matter how hard he tried.

Harry now sat pondering this in silence as students entered the Great Hall for the first dinner feast of his term, Harry had called it to introduce himself and hopefully deliver some sort of speech like Dumbledore always had. Dumbledore… the very person he was most anxious to talk to, he had yet to enter his office here at Hogwarts so he had not spoken with the portrait of Dumbledore at all.

The Great Hall remained fairly silent as the last of the students entered and took their seats, they watched him eagerly, most had skeptical looks on their faces, and the Slytherins all bore stares of the utmost dislike. Harry took a sweeping look back at them all and then stood up, clearing his throat loudly.

"It's already been a difficult year," Harry said loudly. "I know, with Kinglsey Shacklebolt's death you've all been shaken up, I was as—"

"Do you have any leads on the murder _Heamaster_?" a Slytherin sneered.

"_Silence_!" McGonagall spat so firmly Harry thought she sounded rather… evil.

"Because of Kinglsey's death I've been sent here to help safeguard this school from those who wish to harm its students." Harry continued, ignoring the rude jab. "I assure you, there is absolutely nothing to worry about, we've three Aurors in this school now, myself one of them, as well as Avery Smith, and Ron Weasley who resigned before taking his job as your Charms Master, nevertheless he still is very capable. Well… let us all eat now to the start of a new term, and in memory of Kingsley Shacklebolt."

With that Harry sat down, knowing full well the students applauded only because they had to, he did appreciate the somewhat enthusiastic cheers from the Gryffindors…. It hadn't been a very good speech, and most already doubted him….

There was a ringing metallic clink as McGonagall hit a spoon against her golden goblet and stood.

"Let the feast begin." She said plainly.

And so it did. Harry did not particularly enjoy it at all, even with McGonagall politely congratulating him on the appointment (though she did not know he only got it because most of the wizarding public preferred Dean Thomas in his office…) and Hagrid's enthusiastic jabbering. It was over quickly and Harry dismissed the students, catching Albus's eye as they left, he looked disappointed but gave Harry a hopeful look. Harry shook his head sadly, he knew what Albus was going for (though at the same time congratulating him), Quidditch matches had been cancelled until further notice….

The moment the last student's robe disappeared through the doors Harry promptly left the Great Hall, avoiding the other staff members, her turned the corner and began making his way toward the Grand Staircase.

"Harry! Wait up, Harry!" called a voice from behind him.

Harry spun to see Ron and Hermione practically sprinting after him, he'd nearly forgotten.

"Harry," said Hermione, slightly out of breath. "Harry, you've hardly spoken with us for months, what's going on?"

Harry glanced around quickly, looking up several times in fear of Peeves or some other ghost. When he was finally satisfied he answered Hermione's question, or, began to.

"Sorry Hermione, Ron, alright, the truth is we don't understand the pattern of these murders, we don't know who the murderer will strike at next, but we suspect he or she will… we're just not sure… our…" he glanced around nervously. "Follow me."

Neither Hermione, nor Ron questioned but followed Harry intently as he started back down the hall at a brisk pace, he quickly turned the corner and barged in an empty class room, shutting the door behind him when Ron and Hermione entered. He glanced around once more, once he was sure no one could be listening (he made doubly sure by casting several useful spells) he continued the explanation.

"Okay, we only have one suspect, though it could be any of the escaped Death Eaters helping as well, we're sure the first murder was Bellatrix Lestrange, and all the ones following after those Death Eaters broke out were somehow connected to her. The best we can come up with is that she's gathering Voldemort's—"

"Honestly Ron! You've helped Harry fight him!" Hermione hissed angrily as Ron winced.

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly.

Hermione scowled. "Go on." She said.

"We think she's gathering Voldemort's—come off it Ron—followers." Harry finished, snapping at Ron as he tried to hide his next wince but failed miserably, making it look as though he was having a kind of weird muscle spasm.

"That could be likely," Hermione agreed.

"Yeah, if she's really doing that then she probably wants to continue his work." Ron added.

"Or else wants revenge," said Harry grimly.

"Perhaps…" Hermione agreed gravely.

"But…" Harry began trailing off.

"But?" Hermione repeated.

"I have this hunch," said Harry slowly, he knew the kind of reaction he would get when he finally got it out…. "I think Bellatrix might be hiding with the Malfoys."

"Oh, Harry you've no evidence of that!" Hermione practically shouted in exasperation, exactly what he'd suspected. "Just because the Malfoys have not been seen in public for—"

"Actually, they have." Ron said.

"What?!" Harry and Hermione asked incredulously.

"Yeah, the _Quibbler_ had an article about it."

"You can't be serious, Ron." Said Harry disbelievingly.

"You have a subscription to the _Quibbler_?!" Hermione shrieked as though she was insulted, angry, and at the same time found it all rather humorous.

"Well, yeah, it's good reading, mostly it's a laugh, but they had a picture of Narcissa in Diagon Alley, taken just a month ago, she was out buying something but I cant remember what…"

"Still," said Harry. "I think it's suspicious they've not been seen in public for so long, what disease could keep them locked up in their mansion for so long? If it's that serious they'd probably all be dead, or at least a healer would be in and out regularly."

"Yes, it is suspicious Harry." Hermione agreed wholeheartedly. "But you still have absolutely no evidence, all you have in a hunch."

"Which is exactly the reason I haven't been bringing it up, but the moment the situation gets any worse, or we start to run out of leads I'm going to try and have Malfoy Manor searched."

_**I've always wanted Harry to be Headmaster and Hogwarts…. Sorry for the mega long delay in updating. Don't forget to review. **_


	10. Alcohol Poisoning

_**I think I'll like writing this chapter indeed… more evilness and killing to come, I mostly like to write the words Avada Kedavra, just because they sound cool, I'm going to at least twice in this chapter, enjoy.**_

_Chapter 10: Alcohol Poisoning_

Fall had ended, and each night the darkness was a blur of falling sleet, each morning the green grass was a crystal white with frost, and in the afternoons light snow fell in the grounds but did not stick. The mountain peaks in the distance were capped white, they gleamed in the noon sunlight, the land would soon be filled with the dazzling beauty of snow. None of this did a thing to calm Harry's mood.

All had been eerily quiet for the past month, absolutely no progress in the Auror investigation, no murders, no whisperings of Death Eaters, nothing, if the perpetrator of these crimes had left the country it was unlikely that they'd ever be found, even if they hadn't left the country it did not seem as though they could ever be located.

Because of his feeling of unease, Harry had upped the security in Hogwarts, yet again, and cancelled the upcoming Hogsmeade trips until further notice. He did not know what else to do, Rita Skeeter continued to viciously attack his every action inside the Auror office, it was as though she didn't care about the goings on in Hogwarts at all, he could be hanging children by their ankles in the dungeon and he doubted she would bat an eyelash. All of her articles focused on his 'inept' leadership skills in the Auror office. But that was nothing compared to all the terrible things people wrote about his job performance in the editorials, some people actually sided with Rita Skeeter…. He had a suspicion it was only about three people writing in, under different names every day, because each of them had horrendous spelling, and one used exclamation points excessively. He wondered how bad the articles were _before_ the _Prophet_... _edited _them.

Sadly, whoever those people were, they were right. The Aurors were getting nowhere, and that was unacceptable, there had been too many murders, he had to do something, but there was nothing… the case had gone cold. As terrible as it sounded, to get any more leads to follow, they had to wait for the killers to strike again.

Perhaps this was why Harry insisted that neither Albus, James, or Lily traveled home for Christmas, and that Ginny visit the castle instead, Grimmauld Place was protected by numerous enchantments, many of them his own creation, however he could not help but feel that Hogwarts was safer.

XxX

Christmas Eve day had come, the school was slightly chaotic, no one was happy about there still being lessons today, most especially those who had Transfiguration, it was rumored that McGonagall had called for a one foot report on something, and that she had assigned them to read an entire book with the thickness of Slughorn over the Christmas break. Luckily neither Albus, Hugo, Phil, or Rose had Transfiguration that day, what they did have was a double period of Defense Against the Dark Arts, double period at the very end of the lesson day. They were heading toward the third floor now, it was rumored Smith would be teaching them a new spell, or at least doing some type of hands on work, which wasn't bad. At least no one had complained about homework in DADA. On top of that, they were not with Slytherins today, Hufflepuffs instead, odd schedule change.

They entered the classroom and took their seats, waiting, several of them muttered about a large wardrobe in place of Smith's desk which shook violently every so often.

Smith entered from his office, looking slightly dazed, he had an odd air about him… and he smelled slightly of ale, but then again he usually smelled slightly of ale….

He strode up in front of the wardrobe, pulled his wand, and pointed it like a sword towards the shaking cabinet.

"Can anyone tell me what might be in there?" he asked, a bit menacingly.

To no one's surprise, Rose's had shot into the air.

"Yes, Ms. Weasley?" Smith called.

"A boggart, professor." Rose replied smartly.

"Correct, correct, CORRECT!" Smith shrieked crazily. "Fen… er… ten points to Slyffin—Gryffindor! Yes, well, I'm sure you'll be able to tell me what it is that a doggart boes, er… boggart does, yes Ms. Weasley?"

"Are you alright professor?" asked a slightly plump Hufflepuff boy.

"Oh yes, quite fine, quite fine indeed." Smith replied with an odd waving of his hands. "Now, Ms. Han—Granger, will you please…"

He trailed off and gave a loud hiccup.

"Tell me what a boggart… does… or, what it is, I should say."

"Yes, of course, professor. A boggart has no definite form, it takes the shape of what you fear most if you come face to face with it…"

"Excellent! Um… how 'bout seven points to Gryffindor? Yes?"

"Professor," a Hufflepuff asked. "Why seven? Usually professors add either five or ten points, it comes out better."

"Yes, well that's rubbish, that is. I like the number seven, if you have a problem with that and dend you to setention! Or, send you to detention!"

"Are you sure you're alright professor?" the plump boy asked again.

"Yes, yes, too much tea this morning… fine, fine…. Well, today, I'll be teaching you how to… what's the best word? Stop… a boggart should you… stumble…"

Smith gave another loud hiccup.

"… upon one. Before I say it, do you know the spell Ms. Granger."

"No, there's nothing about it in our books."

"Ha! Of course not!" Smith screamed madly. "No, no, no, no, no! You know why? Because I thought this might be a fun lesson, before the break, eh? Yes? Well, anyway, I'll tell you the spell, just point your wand at the boggart when I let it out and say _Riddikulus_!"

"Excuse me," Hugo gulped. "Did you say, let it out?"

"Why of course! How do you expect to learn Mr. Weasley?! Well, for that outburst, you face it first. Remember, wand point… _Riddikulus_!"

"He's mad, he's completely mad." Hugo muttered into Albus's ear as Smith made his way to the cabinet.

"Actually," Albus replied silently. "I think me might be drunk."

"What?!"

"WHAT? WHAT!" Smith cried. "What?!"

"Nothing," Albus and Hugo said in unison.

"Good! See that it stays that way."

"What… the… bloody… hell?" Phil breathed.

"Alright!" Smith said, hiccupping. "All of you, form a straight line in front of the… bordrobe—wardrobe—Mr. Weasley first, and then I'll let you practice."

Hugo gulped as he took head of the line, everyone fell back behind him uneasily, not sure what to expect. Smith waited until all their eyes were fixed on the red head, before calling him near the wardrobe. Hugo apprenhenisvly started forward.

"Stop right there!" Smith bellowed, belching loudly, he stood beside the wardrobe. "Right then, remember Mr. Weasley, _Riddikulus_!"

Hugo nodded and drew his wand.

"One count of four then," Smith began.

"Shouldn't you count to three, professor?" Phil asked.

"I say four! I'll count to for then! Another outburst like that and you'll receive detention!" Smith cried furiously. "Alright… one… two… three!"

He threw open the wardrobe doors and a massive spider, that looked as though it was ten times too big for the wardrobe, crawled out. Hugo froze, he dropped his wand, and stood, petrified as the spider flourished its dripping fangs and came forward. Then, quite suddenly Hugo cried at the top of his lungs and took off toward the door. Smith waved his wand and they heard a lock click into place, all heads turned Hugo's way, once he realized the door was locked he began to bang on it furiously.

"Honestly Mr. Weasley, that is no way to behave!" Smith shrieked whilst aiming his wand at the giant spider. "_Riddikulus!"_

It turned into a large toilet, flushed itself, and then flew back into the wardrobe with closed with loud bang.

"Mr. Weasley! To the back of the line with you!" Smith shouted. "Thirteen points from Gryffindor, for your serious lack of control, I ought to…"

He hiccupped.

"Oh, on with it!"

This process repeated again and again, though no one reacted as Hugo did, most of them succeeded in deterring the boggart. Rose flawlessly turned the large report card marked with nothing but T's into a cackling weasel. Phil's boggart was much more frightening, the slightly deranged form of Bellatrix Lestrange, accompanied by Neville Longbottom strode from the wardrobe, Phil cast away the boggart before Bellatrix could finish the words Avada Kedavra….

Thankfully no one else's was that terrible.

The line dwindled down quickly until there was only the plump Hufflepuff, and Albus. The Hufflepuff's boggart morphed from a massive cobra into a snarling wolf before he transformed it into Slughorn wearing a pink lacey dress. Everyone was slightly shocked to see that. Smith laughed aloud and did not stop for ten full minutes, prolonging Albus's time before the boggart emerged. He stood there with sweaty hands, once clutching a wand, the other curled into a fist. He contemplated what he most feared… he knew he did not like snakes very much, and spiders slightly frightened him as well…. But what was it that truly terrified him? He'd heard stories before, about the downfall of Lord Voldemort, how his own curse…

He did not have time to finish his thoughts.

With out warning, Smith threw open the wardrobe and a younger version of Harry Potter stepped out, followed by a bald man draped in long black robes, he had chalk white skin, serpent-like nostrils, and piercing crimson eyes. Albus let out a gasp as Lord Voldemort pointed the Elder Wand at his father.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _he hissed, a jet of green light, a whooshing sound and Harry fell to the floor, dead. Voldemort cackled endlessly into the air, everyone started at him, some whimpering in fear, other convulsing as though they were freezing cold.

"_Riddikulus!" _Smith growled after snapping out of his own spell of fear. However, the spell missed its mark and Voldemort turned to face Smith, before morphing into a large bottle of liquor.

"NOOO!" Smith cried hysterically. "NEVER AGAIN! NEVER! I MUST NOT!"

"_Riddikulus!" _Rose shrieked, the bottle turned into several popping balloons before the boggart flew back into the wardrobe. Smith stood transfixed at where it had been, clutching his heart.

"Leave," he hissed, shocking several people out of their own states of shock, though undoubtedly from seeing Voldemort, Albus felt a cold sweat trickle down his neck….

"Professor, it's five minutes until—" Rose began.

"LEAVE!" Smith cut her off.

No one waited to be told again, everyone, including Albus, Phil, Hugo, and Rose promptly left Smith to contemplate what he had just witnessed, many, long, quiet moments after the door had closed Smith treaded up to his office, brushing the slight bit of ash away from his feet as he stepped on a small pile near the fire place.

He glanced around as he approached his locked, and magically protected cedar chest, no one was watching, with a wave of his wand the drapes flew shot, another flick and the trunk lid flew open, he dug through the large stack of papers, down to the very bottom which was wet with ale… they must've broken… he cleared away the shattered shards of glass, reaching for his last two bottles which remained untouched, not pausing to think how odd it was that seven other bottles had suddenly, and spontaneously broken in a chest that did not move.

It didn't matter. He opened the first bottle, poured himself some ale and drunk.

XxX

Another glass of alcohol still did not kill the pain, it made his sister's death hazy in his mind, but did not diminish it… he could so clearly see it happening in his mind. His dear friend and partner at the Auror office… in his home… an argument… it turned into a duel… his sister came… a witch, only just graduated from Hogwarts… she attempted to stop the two quarreling friends…. Her efforts were futile… the duel escalated into a death match… the Killing Curse shot from the tip of his dear friend's wand… it flew… straight past his ear… he heard it clearly… and he turned… as it… hit his sister square in the chest… she fell over… dead.

He killed his partner after that and disposed of the body… no one ever solved that murder… and he played as though his sister had been killed by some Dark Wizard, alone. He could not bear anyone to know the truth, because, even though it was his friend that cast the curse… it was his fault the argument took place.

Avery Smith shook the thoughts from his head and stood up from his chair, vacating his office and headed to his secret cache of ale. No one saw the half drunk professor as he exited the castle and made his way toward the Shrieking Shack, no one noticed him enter, or ascend the dark staircase into a room with a dead fire place, bottle upon bottle of ale stacked near one wall. He ran to one and opened it, drinking as he fell upon the old bed.

He did not know how long he sat there, trying to rid himself of the pain. All he knew was that the world was steadily growing… loud. He dismissed it as the ale, playing tricks on his mind, perhaps a shadow. But then he saw the face of Bellatrix Lestrange before him. The fire place suddenly was alight with green flame; a spinning figure appeared, exiting briskly, Lucius Malfoy. The bottle of ale shattered on the floor, Smith pulled out his wand, but was too drunk to use it.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Bellatrix shrieked, his wand flew from his hand. He reached for it.

"Don't move," the Death Eater hissed, aiming her wand at his face. Smith froze, Lucius seemed to glide up beside her, but his eyes were not his own… they were a piercing crimson, those of Lord Voldemort.

"Avery Smith," the cold, silky voice of Voldemort hissed.

"L-Lucius Malfoy, I though' youwere ill!" Smith slurred.

"Lucius Malfoy is dead, he has been for a long while now, fool. I, Lord Voldemort, have taken his place, soon I will discard his body and have my own, but I need something to obtain one, the fragment of my soul inhabiting dear Lucius's body is too torn, to weak, I seek a stronger part of my being, if you will. My last Horcrux."

"I'm drunk!" Smith shrieked. "I'm verydrunk! Ain'tnon 'o this reeeeeeel! None! Too much ale!"

"No, you fool; we are not illusions of your alcohol influenced mind." Lucius hissed in the voice of Voldemort.

"You are Luci! Youareafigment of my imaaaaaaagination!" Smith cried, flailing his arms crazily. "Voldymont ain't 'live nomore! And if he washe wouldn't be telling meeee his plan!"

"Well, you're sadly mistaken my friend," Voldemort said quietly. "Lord Voldemort is alive… though you are correct in one matter, I would not tell you any plan of mine, unless it was my intent to kill you, and I knew you would never be able to utter a word to anyone… ever again."

"Wha'?!"

"Indeed, farewell Avery Smith, know that your sacrifice will be part in insuring the return of Lord Voldemort! For that, you will receive a great honor." Lucius's hand drew a long yew wand, which was pointed like a blade at Smith.

"Noooo! Leave! Youall is a damned hallucination! Damn ale!"

"As I've told you before, _Professor _Smith, we are entirely real. And now, you shall have your great honor. _Avada Kedavra_!"

Voldemort's eyes watched the light leave Smith's, and followed his body as it fell from the bed and onto the wooden floor, his face hit the puddle of ale where the bottle had shattered, and he moved no more.

"Congratulations," Bellatrix hissed. "You've had the great honor of being killed by the Dark Lord."

"Come, dear Bella, let us leave this place." Voldemort said.

"Of course, _my _lord, of course." Bellatrix replied. "Too bad about that one though… the Auror Office is a sad place now... they might consider that he died from alcohol poisoning!"

She burst into hysterical laughter and stepped into the emerald flames after her master.

_**Oh no! Now who's gonna take up the DADA post?! Umbridge?! No, of course not, I suppose you'll just have to wait and find out…. Anyway, don't forget to comment. **_


	11. The Interview

_Chapter 11: The Interview_

It was as though all forces of the universe were against him, the people, the government, magic itself. Harry could not make sense of it, Smith had just _disappeared _one night, it was as though the darkness in his office had swallowed him up. He was nowhere to be found, he'd not been heard of, nor had he contacted anyone before he vanished. It was an enigma. Harry suspected it had something to do with the empty bottles of ale in the professor's trunk. Dozens upon dozens of broken bottles, the velvet lining was soaked through; it was as though someone had broken them…. On top of this the charms protecting the floo network over Hogwarts were now nonfunctional, though, there was no conclusive proof that a person had tampered with them, it was as though they had gone bad, like meat on a countertop.

Of course Rita Skeeter found a way to blame all this on Harry's incompetence. She had even gone so far to say that he was the worst Head Auror in the history of the Ministry of Magic, and that it remained to be seen how terribly he would fail at his Headmaster position. Harry, through all of this, had wondered why she spent so much time blaming him for everything, instead of questioning Percy's, the minister's decision for putting him there. Not that he would ever wish that upon Percy, but he found it odd that Rita had not examined that angle.

Then, just that morning, as though she had read his thoughts, the front page article on the _Daily Prophet_ was completely covered with an article questioning, and severely criticizing Percy's decision. It was then Harry had really begun to push the Auror's to follow every single lead they had, anything. But, there was nothing….

He'd never been so frustrated in his entire career as Head Auror… in his entire _life_, even. On top of all of this, he could not find anyone to fill up the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. He would have done it himself, but he was already running two institutions, not a soul would even come for a bloody interview. He had a suspicion that people wanted to avoid both him, and the post, as though Voldemort's jinx was in affect once more.

XxX

Draco succumbed to Voldemort's jinx. His knees buckled and he was forced to bow before the form of his father, the eyes of the Dark Lord glaring in their piercing way from Lucius Malfoy's sockets.

"Was that so difficult?" the Dark Lord hissed. Alecto Carrow burst into a fit of laughter; several other Death Eaters in the room chuckled as well.

"No." Draco spat.

"Very good. Arise!"

Lucius's wielded Voldemort's yew wand like a blade, with a slight flick upwards, Draco was on his feet.

"Now that the pleasantries have ended I shall reveal why I called you all to me, for this meeting." said Voldemort, sinking into a black armchair, near the fireplace of Malfoy Manor's grand living room. Draco sat down upon the sofa, the Death Eaters traveled out of their way to avoid him; some fell into the copious, yet stiff arm chairs, and the remaining sofas. Voldemort's mind commanded Lucius fingers to fold.

"I merely wished you all to bear witness to my sending young _master _Draco here to fulfill his part of the plan." Voldemort said quietly. His eyes flicked from Death Eater, to Death Eater, and then to Draco.

"I trust you have not forgotten our agreement."

"No."

"I doubted you would, if you do this one task for me, Draco, your life shall be spared, and so shall the rest of your family. Now, you know what I ask?"

"Yes."

"Then leave, and find it for me."

"Yes, my lord." Draco replied statically. "I must pack."

Lucius's eyebrow cocked, he waved the yew wand, and, seconds later, a black trunk flew in to the living room, landing softly at Draco's feet.

"You are packed." Voldemort's voice stated.

"Wait, wait a moment my lord!" cried Amycus Carrow. "What if he is not accepted?"

"Oh but he will be, the Skeeter woman has ensured that. Potter is desperate." Voldemort replied silkily, though he spat the word Potter like a cobra spits venom.

"Of course, our Lord has accounted for the possibilities!" Alecto stated jubilantly.

"Indeed, so, tell me Draco, _why are you still standing there_?"

"My son, should he not accompany me?" Draco asked hopefully.

Lucius's lips curled into the cruelest of smiles.

"No," said Voldemort's voice quietly. "no, no, I think not. For you see Draco, I have doubts about where your loyalties truly lie, to Lord Voldemort, or to yourself? That is why your offspring, your wife, and your mother will remain with me. They will be your collateral, you will be reunited with them once your task is complete, fail to complete that task and they will die, though suffer greatly first. Now go, complete your task quickly, for if I grow impatient I might just slip, and one of your loved ones will die."

XxX

McGonagall felt a mixture of fear, shock, and relief as she led the paled, cloaked figure toward the Headmaster's office, striding at a brisk pace. She could barely believe it when _he _showed up near the Hogwarts gate; she even dismissed a completely sober Hagrid as drunk when he told her. It was as though she was in denial. After all, he had not been seen for a long while…. Everyone though him dead, even she. How foolish, of course he was not dead, he was walking silently behind her, he was here to meet with Potter.

She was slightly out of breath when she came upon the stone gargoyle, the cloaked figure behind her was complete silent, his breathing could not be heard. She turned her head to look at his pale, finely defined features.

"This is it."

"I'm aware, I attended this school before, _Professor_."

McGonagall pursed her lips. She was never a fan of his sarcasm. The Transfiguration teacher turned her head briskly, and tartly stated,

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

The gargoyle leapt aside, exposing a winding stair case that rose like those muggle escalators. She allowed the pale wizard to step on to before herself. McGonagall hesitated, watching him trail up and away from her before putting a skippered foot on the winding staircase and allowing it to bring her along for the ride. After a few moments of silent waiting the staircase stopped with a kind of muffled, booming click.

Before she could, the cloaked one knocked upon the Headmaster's door.

"Enter," commanded Harry Potter's voice. The pale man smiled, and did so. He stepped into the Headmaster's study filled with the portraits of the headmasters of old. It was well past midnight, the time this important event was to take place, all of the headmasters and headmistresses should have been sleeping, though, like usual, they were merely putting up an unconvincing façade of slumber.

"Minerva?" Harry questioned as the pale figure sat down before his desk.

"He is here about—"

"I'm here about your problem Potter." sneered the cloaked man.

"What problem might that be?" Harry returned testily.

"You have a post open, do you not?" asked the pale figure, removing his hood.

"Yes, but why on earth would I hire you, Malfoy?" Harry hissed. "You were once a Death Eater, I'm not sure parents would approve of one of Voldemort's former servants teaching their children to defend themselves from the Dark Arts."

"But who better to teach than one who knows the Dark Arts?" Malfoy countered.

"True, but I'd rather put someone trustworthy in the post."

"What makes you doubt me, Potter?"

"For one, I find it suspicious that you've not been seen in public for so long, you or your family, and your house is locked up so securely that it could rival the wizarding prison Azkaban."

"I suppose it is a kind of quarantine. I assure you Potter, I find it as suspicious as you do." Malfoy lied. "My mother, son, and father, who is right now lying upon his death bed are sick with spattergroit. I was as well, but I've been cured. Saint Mungo's has healers coming in and out every day, specially trained healers who tell me this is being kept quiet. I don't know why, but you can look at Saint Mungo's records if you wish. You are the Head Auror."

Harry remained unconvinced. Records could be forged, and for all he knew every healer in St. Mungo's was in the Malfoy's pocket. He allowed this explanation to suffice for now, he was still untrusting of Malfoy, he'd had a hunch for a long time now, he was not sure what the hunch was, nor what to make of it… he just had a feeling. Perhaps he could keep an eye on him if he was at Hogwarts though….

"I'll check those records." he said simply. "Now, if you wish to teach here, I'll have to interview you. Perhaps you could come back at a better time."

"No, I have nowhere to go, the healers will not allow me in my home again, for fear that I will catch the spattergroit again. They, apparently, can fend off the damned disease, of course, I don't know how that is possible, spattergroit is highly contagious, is it not Potter?" Malfoy sneered in his drawling way that reminded Harry so much of their time at Hogwarts that he almost wanted to jinx Malfoy.

"I suppose it is," Harry agreed crisply. McGonagall watched them both with a slightly bemused and amused expression on her elderly face.

"I thought you would," Malfoy replied smugly, Harry knew he was hinting about his, Hermione's, and Ron's stunt when they were on the run from Voldemort, making it seem as though Ron has spattergroit. This thought… Harry could not help but wonder… was Malfoy hinting at something?

"Well, let us get this interview started." Harry proposed. He looked to McGonagall. "You can leave."

She gave a kind of smile before nodding and turning to exit the office. At first the Transfiguration professor had been a little more than surprised that Malfoy was requesting the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position, and she was slightly nervous. After all, she had taught both Potter and Malfoy, and she knew how the behaved around one another. Now, seeing that little had changed, she, somehow, found it all slightly amusing.

Harry knew exactly what she was thinking too, and he inwardly scowled as the door closed behind her. Then again, if he was in her position, he'd probably find it amusing as well. But, back to the point, Malfoy.

"So," Harry began, not sure how to start off, after all, he had never had to give a teaching interview before. "what makes you want this post?"

"Haven't I already made that clear Potter?" Malfoy snapped. "My family is _ill_ with spattergroit, my father is on his death bed, and I cannot return to my home. I need somewhere to stay, and I need some job to take my mind off of it all, Hogwarts can provide me with both."

"Fine," Harry replied, not believing him in the least. "Well then, what makes you think you are qualified to take up this position?"

"What kind of question is that Potter? I'm qualified for the same reason Snape was qualified. I _was _a Death Eater, and I was taught the Dark Arts. Don't you believe I would, of all people, know how to defend myself against them?"

"No, not really, I reckon you spent most of your time learning how to use them, than you spent learning how to defend yourself. Remember Crabbe, and fiendfyre?"

"Crabbe was an idiot and we both know it, Potter." Malfoy spat, not displaying how it actually did hurt him, that comment. Crabbe had truly been one of his… friends, if he had any.

"He was," Harry agreed. "so, perhaps you can show me that you can do better to defend yourself."

"Are you suggesting we torch this office just to see if I can stop it? I might not Potter, I'd find it rather amusing if the school burned down under your watch, I suppose I could get a job a Hogs Head, they have rooms."

"Do you want this job or not?"

"I admit I would prefer it to bartending."

"Then," Harry said once more. "prove to me you can defend yourself."

"And once again, we start the circle of talk. What do you want me to do?"

Harry pulled his wand on Malfoy quicker than a normal human should have been able to. In a moment he was poised and ready.

"_Imperio!" _he cried.

He was surprised at how Malfoy immediately resisted, as though he'd been expecting it. Harry barely had control for more than a few seconds before he was defeated.

"Pathetic, Potter," Malfoy half chuckled. "I was taught how to defend myself, can't have my enemies stooping to my level, can I, as you would say? I'm quite capable of defending myself against more than you know."

"I'll admit," said Harry. "That was impressive, you can defend yourself. Shaking off the Imperius Curse is difficult, of course you know that. So, for whatever it is worth, you have proved _something_."

"Do I have the job then?"

"Not quite. There are two more things I would like to do."

"Yes?"

"Are you prepared to duel?"

Malfoy's eyebrows quirked. "We've done quite enough of that in school, haven't we?"

"Not enough for me to judge how capable you are." Harry returned. Wordlessly, he stood, Malfoy followed suit. He led the DADA Professor prospect behind in front of his desk, and magicked the various tables and instruments, some of which had belonged to Dumbledore (whom Harry wished would return to his portrait), to the side of the room, creating quite a large space. Harry and Malfoy strode to opposite sides of the room and drew their wands.

"I cast first," Harry stated.

"Of course," Malfoy replied.

Harry nodded. They bowed briefly, and not exactly respectfully, then took up their stances. As promised, Malfoy allowed Harry to move first. Wordlessly, Harry flourished his wand; a streak of amethyst light erupted from the tip, shooting straight for Malfoy.

Malfoy side stepped, allowing the particularly nasty jinx of Harry's own creation (with a bit of help from Hermione) to hit the cabinet behind him, shattering the glass doors. There was a flash of light, and Harry found himself facing a bullet sized speck of green light flying toward him. He spun whilst shouting _"Protego!"_. A see-through shield of magic sprang to life about around him, the speck of green dissolved into it.

Harry turned to face his opponent again, Malfoy was already in the process of casting a hex, but Harry was far to quick. He angled his wand as though it was a fire arm, concentrated, and, quite suddenly, a jet of white flame erupted, flying straight for Malfoy. This was another spell of Harry's own creation, and, in his opinion, it was quite hard to defend against, there was only one way he knew how…. Malfoy, apparently, was quick on his feet, he flicked his wand and Harry watched as the air in the room was… sucked into it. The fire flickered and died as all the oxygen was magicked away.

The Headmaster smiled and re-oxygenated the room. He nodded in approval.

"Very good, I think that's the only way to defend against that spell." Harry said.

"Fine," Malfoy replied shortly. "Do I have the job?"

"One last thing…"

Malfoy threw his hands up in frustration.

"Can you cast a Patronus?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Malfoy sneered. "Dead useful too, they are. _Expecto Patronum_!"

A silvery, misty asp manifested from the tip of Malfoy's wand and sort of slithered in the air around the perimeter of Harry's office before vanishing in a wisp of smoke. Harry, once again, nodded.

"Normally I'd probably test your teaching skills right now," he said. "but, I think that can wait, the children at least need a substitute, and you're more than capable. I'd liked Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons to resume quickly, so you can take Smith's old office, look over his lesson plans, gauge where best to begin. How long do you think that will take?"

"How does two days sound?"

Harry was slightly surprised. "Well enough."

"Good, I'll have it done by then, I'll be teaching quicker than even the _Head Auror _can cast a Patronus."

With that Malfoy turned and left, taking the office key from Harry.

_**Perhaps now Voldemort's plan is becoming clearer to you? I'd hope so. Um… yes… well… I tried to make it realistic, Harry hiring Malfoy that is, and that's it for this um… Author's Note I guess. By my use of the word um (which always seems to be replaced with er in the HP books) you can tell I'm not British. I'm American, I have a nasally Northern American accent because I live up north in the US. I don't know why I'm going on about this, I suppose it is because I want to fill the Author's Note part up with a lot of meaningless crap so I can sneak in my "please review" plea at the end, which I should stop doing because... well you all do review. So um… yes… that's it, until the next chapter.**_


	12. Edges of the Map

_**MAJOR HUGE IMPORTANT NOTE: I am CHANGING THE NAME of this account to either Xarkun, or Lord Xarkun 2019, in an attempt to make this my universal account, whether it be Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean… Alias, you name it. I am telling you this so you don't freak out and think someone stole this story, thank you.**_

_**Slightly Less Important, But Still Important, Note: About Malfoy becoming DADA professor, trust me, it ain't gonna last long, and I might play to your interests and have Harry become it afterward if the situation calls for it… otherwise (smiles evilly) I've got an idea, muhahahahaha! Understand that Malfoy is there for a minor reason in Voldemort's plan, he needs and inside man you see, remember, this story is about retrieving a last Horcrux, all will be explained soon, as in how Voldemort is able to inhabit Lucius's body, and probably how he obtained his last Horcrux, and how he made it with what kill and stuff…. I believe you will like some upcoming action, I'm gonna give Bellatrix more fight scenes because she's cool like that, Helena Bonham Carter is brilliant at playing her, did you know she's going to be in a new movie also starring Johnny Depp? It's called Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, but enough of this! It's already too long, just read.**_

_Chapter 12: Edges of the Map_

It was well past midnight now, every student in Hogwarts now lay in their beds safely and quietly, sleeping and dreading particular lessons tomorrow. Most of the staff had followed suit, and were likewise under the covers of their own bed, save for the elderly caretaker Argus Filch, a patrolling teacher or two, and Draco Malfoy who had cast a disillusionment charm upon himself. He treaded down dark corridors, invisible to the naked eye, with one purpose in mind, to exit the castle and stride into the cold, winter night air so that he might reach his destination, a run down shack near Hogsmeade.

He magicked the great oak doors of Hogwarts Castle open silently, strode across the threshold and shut them behind him with equal noiselessness. The new professor strode across the grown, cutting through a light blanket of snow. He did not deem it necessary to cover any footprints, after all, it was not as though anyone came outside in the wee morning hours for a breath of fresh air, and even if they did he doubted they would notice his prints, mingled in the tracks of others, though his were quite fresh, as opposed to the others. In the darkness, however, no one would notice.

Malfoy reached the iron gates that led off the grounds of Hogwarts. It was quite easy to slip out, and he knew a way to get back in, should he be unable to undo the enchantments. Draco Malfoy took a deep breath, spun on the spot, and apparated.

XxX

Harry cursed loudly in his office as Malfoy's dot vanished from the Marauder's Map. Where on earth could he be going at this late hour? To Hogs Head, or another tavern, perhaps for a drink? No…. That seemed unlikely, perhaps to visit his family?

The last was possible, but still, not probable. Harry found this very suspicious, as anyone would. But, he would not follow Malfoy. He would be impossible to trace, there was no use in trying. No, instead he would have to wait until a better time to question him, and ensure that his newest staff member was watched every night afterwards, and most especially now. Harry decided he must stay awake and await Draco's return, just in case….

XxX

Malfoy took a deep breath as he appeared before the winding path that led up to the Shrieking Shack. There was absolutely no place in the entire world that he could not want to be more. The new professor strode up the path, lightly blanketed with snow. He flicked his wand to open the door. It creaked terribly on its hinges.

The moment the inside of the shack was exposed to the outside, a putrid, abhorrent smell wafted out, attacking Malfoy's nostrils and causing his eyes to water. He pulled his scarf up to his face, to filter out the terrible air, and then stepped over the threshold. The door closed behind him, seemingly on its own accord, he looked up the stairs that led to the bedroom.

Swallowing hard, and attempting to refrain from losing his dinner, Malfoy started up the staircase. Each individual board groaned as he placed his weight on it, and the higher he climbed, the more the horrifying smell grew, his scarf was no longer effective, but he dare not remove it. It was so utterly horrible….

He reached the bedroom, the door was open. He could not bring himself to step inside, why had this place been chosen? Malfoy closed his eyes, and opened them, then stepped in.

The pale, cold, lifeless, and rotting body of Avery Smith lay, his face pressed to the ground, an empty bottle near his hand. The dead man's replacement had to look away. The site was—

"Terrible, isn't it?" A feminine voice hissed, Malfoy's eyes flicked to the left and locked upon Bellatrix Lestrange as she exited the fireplace, now filled with a roaring green flame.

"Why didn't you take the body out?" Malfoy snapped, his voice muffled by the scarf.

Bellatrix laughed loudly.

"The Dark Lord wished for it to remain here, and here it shall stay." Bellatrix replied, it seemed as though she was unaffected by the putrid stench of death.

"I'm in." Malfoy stated sharply. "That's what you came here to know."

"That'll be the reason, yes." The female Death Eater said.

"They why are we both still here?" Malfoy hissed venomously.

"Well I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"Fine, I expect you forgot. What are the… Dark Lord's… orders?"

"No," said Bellatrix. "I did not forget. There are no orders."

"How does he expect me to—"

"He expects you to get yourself settled in, get acquainted. Then wait for orders."

"You mean—"

"Yes, it's entirely possible you may have to return here. And you know as well as I, Draco, that the Dark Lord's trust does not come easily. Now, leave here, and return to your office before Potter realizes you're gone. Wait for orders, and do not draw attention to yourself."

XxX

Harry monitored Malfoy's activities on the map for the next several days. Never again did his new hire leave the castle so abruptly during the late hours of the night. But Harry was not lured into a false sense of security; Malfoy had acted very suspiciously that night. However, at the moment, Malfoy was not his immediate concern. Although he had just been dragged into it. Harry set down his fork near his plate of bacon, golden toast, and hotcakes, and picked up McGonagall's morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to get a better look at it. What he saw was a large picture of himself, as always, and what would seem to the wizarding world like an outrageous headline. POTTER HIRES FORMER DEATH EATER!

Harry dropped the paper onto the table and shook his head. Rita Skeeter was selling papers like mad now, and after her slew of propaganda article after propaganda article, the world was beginning to believe her. Harry looked to James, to Lily, then to Albus. None of them seemed to be suffering from his humiliation, there was at least one positive.

XxX

Albus failed to catch his father's eye, but instead glanced over at their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Draco Malfoy. He'd heard stories about him, none of them were told in a tone that merited respect, like… nothing of the sort. Harry was not fond of Malfoy, his son knew that, so he wondered why he'd been hired, but the primary thought, overriding all in his mind was, now that they had a new teacher, how would lesson plans differ? What would it be like?

Albus wanted to find out, but not first hand. Of course, as luck would have it, Albus, Hugo, Rose, and Phil would be the first to experience a lesson under the tutelage of Draco Malfoy… right… after… breakfast. If only the slow consumption of food could prolong the inevitable gathering of students him the DADA tower…. Alas, the bell rang.

XxX

Malfoy brought his hand down hard on his desk. No more sound was heard in the classroom. Albus stared at their new teacher intently.

"Silence!" Malfoy snapped. "I will not tolerate noise in my class. I am here to teach, you are here to learn, I suggest you begin to desire the knowledge I offer, otherwise you'll join me for detention."

Albus's head turned slightly to a group of whispering Slytherins….

"You two!" Malfoy barked, pointing at that very group. "Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I told you? Detention!"

"But—"

"A weeks worth, the both of you, I will not tolerate that kind of behavior in my class. You will speak when needed, not any other time."

Their new professor was strict, thought Albus.

Indeed he was, thought the professor. He would not loosen up either, nor would he attract suspicious attention to himself, for he was under orders…. Malfoy decided already how to go about handling a class, be even more strict that McGonagall. He hoped it would discourage any students from communicating with him, and along with that, avoid their new, terrible… mean professor. That could make his job easier, being avoided.

"First lesson." Malfoy started, waving his wand, the chalk began to scribble out neatly written letters on the blackboard, seemingly on its own accord. "Today I will gauge your skills while teaching you practical defense that all should know, it is a relatively simple spell, called the Protego Charm, can anyone tell me what it is this charm is used for."

Rose's hand flew into the air. Malfoy's gray eyes locked onto her, as though she were some sort of prey to be hunted.

"Yes, you, Ms…"

"Weasley, sir." Rose replied.

"Yes, I've seen you before; you are the daughter of Granger…. I expected as much…. What is the function of the Protego Charm?"

"The Protego Charm, otherwise known as the Shield Charm protects its caster from a wide variety of curses, hexes—"

"Yes, that'll do Ms. Weasley." Malfoy interrupted, leaving Rose looking positively livid. "Ms. Weasley is correct, the Protego Charm is a shielding spell, it can protect you from all but the most terrible curses, the Unforgivable ones, among others. I assume you are all intelligent enough to understand why it is useful then. Now, I want you all to line up, we're going to practice."

Everyone stood, and within moments the desks were pushed away, leaving room for two combatants to face one another, leaving a no-man's-land in between which Malfoy strode down, to the end of the line.

"The side of the room to my right will use a very simple hex that requires little skill at all. Tarantellegra. Aim your wand and say it, I doubt any of you will fail. The other side of the room shall use the Protego Charm to deflect the curse, begin."

No one moved.

"Sir," someone had said, a timid looking Gryffindor.

"What?" Malfoy snapped.

"What exactly does the Tarantellegra curse do?"

"I'm sure Ms. Weasley can tell you." Malfoy sneered.

"It makes the victim's legs—"

"Dance, yes." The new DADA teacher finished, once again cutting off Rose, who prided herself on giving a full, flawless definition of all spells.

The Gryffindor snickered and faced his plump Slytherin opponent. Albus, who stood next to him, Hugo across the room, looked to Malfoy again.

"Begin," said the servant of Lord Voldemort once more.

"_Tarantellegra!"_ Albus called in unison with his half of the room, everyone seemed to master the spell on their first try.

"_Protego!" _cried the other half of the room.

After that half of the left side was dancing uncontrollably while the right waited for Malfoy to cast a counter curse. Once the dancing concluded, each side traded tasks; Albus already knew he could cast the Protego Charm. Hugo could not; it was obvious, as he had been the last one left for Malfoy to release from the curse. Therefore Albus easily parried Hugo's Tarantellegra curse.

This process repeated a total of seven more times before Hugo finally, and successfully, produced a magical shield with the Protego Charm. Malfoy gave an odd curt nod… or sneer of satisfaction, mixed with a slight bit of distaste. He then, mercifully dismissed the awkward, new-teacher-type lesson as the bell rang.

Once the door closed behind the very last student, Draco sat down behind his desk and folded his hands, breathing a sigh of relief. All was well… for _now_.

_**Remember to review! And remember to note that I will soon be CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS ACCOUNT! Thank you.**_


	13. A Dark Christmas

_**Hello, and welcome to chapter 13, (smiles wickedly) just wait till you get into it, I'm confident this will be an excellent chapter for 1 reason that shall be given at the very bottom Author Note the reason is…. (you'll just have to read through the chapter first and get to it, otherwise you'll ruin it for yourself). BTW, in case you haven't noticed, MY PEN NAME CHANGED! I am no longer Avada Kedavra 2019, instead, I shall henceforth be known as Xarkun, Lord Xarkun, if you wish, he's one of my fiction characters, evil guy, kinda looks like Voldemort with a nose, but he doesn't do magic... Yeah, anyway, enjoy the chapter.**_

_Chapter 13: A Dark Christmas_

Snow was piled up at least a foot upon the grounds at Hogwarts, and one had to be careful while trekking through it outside (which, with some exception, only the younger classes of students did) for there was always the danger of a massive pile of snow falling from the roof onto your head. It happened on rare occasions, but when it did, students returned to the castle immediately, shivering uncontrollably, and in search of a warm fire. Harry had seen it happen several times before, and for some reason he found it slightly amusing, after all, none of the students were hurt, and the idea of it was just that… funny. If that ever got out to the _Prophet _though, he would pay for it.

Harry did not understand why he would be thinking about _that_ of all things today. After all, half of the school would be gone tonight, the Christmas break was approaching, and Ginny was coming to visit the castle, for Harry did not think it would be a good idea for him to leave.

A feast was to be held tonight, in the next five minutes in fact. Harry had just arrived outside the doors to the Great Hall. He waved his wand casually, and they opened before him, revealing an empty room with tables lined with lavish plates and all matter of eating utensils, but no food yet. Harry took his seat at the headmaster's chair and waited as the other teachers and students began to file in.

Quickly, the entire staff table was filled, save for one chair, and half of the students had arrived. Harry noted the empty seat…. It was Malfoy's. He was deeply tempted to return to his office with all haste, open the Marauder's Map, and find his newest hire, however, his undoable intentions were nullified as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, rather grim looking, stepped into the hall and made for his seat. No one paid him the slightest bit of mind except for Harry, who glanced over him for a minute. Something seemed off… but he could not place it.

XxX

Malfoy mind contained innumerable thoughts racing around, he did not notice his surroundings as he stepped into the Great Hall, and barely registered the polite greeting Professor McGonagall offered him. He sat down, and stared at his reflection in the silver plate before him. He looked pale; as well he should, for tonight was _the _night. He remembered….

_It was the day before the last day of term, or the night, rather, before the Christmas break at Hogwarts. Malfoy trekked uneasily through the deep snow, the Shrieking Shack looming several yards away. Once he reached the stoop before the door, he turned and waved his wand, causing all of his footprints to disappear. Tonight was another irritatingly abnormal night, hopefully one of the last times he'd be called here._

_The new professor braced himself, took a last deep breath of fresh air, and entered the shack, once more, an overwhelming smell greeted his nostrils, and became stronger still as he ascended the steps into the bedroom where the rotting form of Avery Smith lay dead, though it no longer resembled Smith much at all. It was indescribable, and it smelled unearthly._

_Malfoy waited, as far away from Smith as possible, eyes on the fireplace. He was unsurprised to see green flame shoot up inside, and a spinning, cloaked figure appear within it. Though he was surprised at _who_ stepped out of the fireplace. He had been expecting Bellatrix Lestrange, instead, Lord Voldemort stood before him in the form of his father. Malfoy stared into the eye sockets of Lucius, the Dark Lord's eyes glared back at him._

"_My lord," Malfoy addressed._

"_It is time," said Voldemort's voice, from the throat of Lucius Malfoy._

"_Time?"_

"_Do not feign ignorance, Lord Voldemort knows, he always knows…."_

"_Well today you are mistaken, my lord. I don't know what you are talking about." Malfoy returned._

"_Fool," hissed Voldemort, a positively venomous look perched upon Lucius' face. "It is time for you to fulfill your part."_

"_So you're here to tell me just what I am supposed to do?"_

"_No. I am here to order you to do what I wish done." _

"_What is that?" Malfoy asked, and added quickly: "My lord."_

"_You will open the Chamber of Secrets."_

"_Are you barking mad?! Why would I want to open the Chamber of Secrets, I--"_

"_Silence! You hear but you fail to listen, as always. You will not speak unless I direct you to. Now, be silent and listen if you truly care for your family's lives. To find the Chamber, you will enter the bathroom of the ghost called Moaning Myrtle. I trust you know where to find it."_

_Malfoy remained silent, after all, Voldemort had told him to._

"_I apologize, that was an implied question. Do you know where to find it?"_

"_Yes," said Malfoy simply._

"_Good. To open the Chamber you must say the simple word 'open' in Parseltongue." Voldemort explained, and he spent the next few minutes instructing Malfoy on the proper pronunciation before he began again._

"_Once you enter the Chamber, you will find the statue of my great ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, at its end. There you will see the dead basilisk before it, you will enter the statue."_

_Malfoy could not contain himself. "_Enter _the statue?!"_

"_Are you deaf, Draco? You will do as I command! You will enter the statue, its mouth lays open, and exposes the entrance to the lair of the basilisk, within it you will find a sword, its hilt will be encrusted with emeralds, you will bring me this sword. Those are your orders."_

"_I will bring you the sword?"_

"_Yes, and I, Lord Voldemort, may then, and only then, see fit to grant you mercy."_

He remembered….

Malfoy snapped back into reality as Harry ended his speech and the feast began.

Draco barely tasted the food as he ate, he was far to preoccupied. Tonight was _the _night, he had to be ready.

XxX

Well past midnight, well past one in the morning, Malfoy entered the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle, a disillusionment charm cast upon himself, and a silencing spell upon his feet. No sound emanated from his shoes making contact with the slightly wet floor, he could not be seen, he was a wraith, he did not exist here, and therefore could not be caught.

He approached the entrance to the Chamber, and found the snake upon the sink. He concentrated, having repeated the Parseltongue word inside his head hundreds of times. He was ready.

Malfoy opened his mouth, and made an odd kind of hissing gasp, he stepped back as the entrance to the Chamber was exposed. A hole in the floor…. He readied himself, willing his heart to stop beating so quickly, with a deep breath he shut his eyes, and jumped down into the chute. For a very long time, he seemed unable to control his body, he was descending down the chute faster, and faster, until he fell and came to a sudden stop.

The new professor stood up and opened his eyes; he removed the disillusionment charm and said "_Lumos_" while examining his surroundings. He stood in a kind of cavern; he must be far under the school now. There was only one path, and so Malfoy followed it, past an area that seemed to have caved in long ago, toward a round porthole at the end of his long trek. It was open, another obstacle ridden, but not by him.

He stepped through it, into the Chamber itself. It was a long room, the statues of snakes aligning it on either side, and at the very end, the statue of Salazar Slytherin, mouth open, just as Voldemort has said. The dead skeletal form of the basilisk lay before it; he noticed several teeth missing from its jaws—

Malfoy spun, halfway between the statue and the exit; he angled his wand at the porthole. He was sure he had heard something…. But nothing was there.

He turned and uneasily resumed his stride toward the statue, avoiding the dead snake, he stared at it for a moment… waiting for something? No. Nothing was to come, nothing came…. Malfoy reached out and began to climb up into the mouth. He reached it, and stood upon the stone lip, looking back into the Chamber, as if to catch someone tailing him. Again, nothing, he was the only _living_ organism there, he had to be. Everyone else was asleep, and he was not followed.

The servant of Voldemort turned back into the tunnel that led into the basilisk's lair. It was tall enough for him to walk comfortable through. He extended his glowing wand, and used it to guide his step. It seemed like a trek of eternity, walking down the tunnel, in reality to took only a few moments and he stepped into a large, circular room, still lined with tracks in dirt that the giant snake had carved, and the bones of several animals, all indistinguishable from one another, what was distinguishable was a stone in the center that perfectly balanced a long, untarnished silver sword with an emerald encrusted hilt.

Malfoy made for it, and suddenly halted. A thought had struck him.

This was too easy.

Voldemort had to have had extra protection…. Then again, it depended on the time period in which he left the sword here. Perhaps the basilisk had been its guardian, or else Severus Snape and the Carrows. If he was correct…. Malfoy took several steps further, and reached out to grab the magnificent blade, it fell before he could touch it, and a strange feeling caressed him… as though magic had faded, a ward had been broken…. Voldemort? Could the Dark Lord possibly have removed a protective spell from several hundred, if not thousands of miles away? Why did HE not recover the sword?

It did not matter. Malfoy retrieved the weapon, half of his goal complete; he set out of the basilisk's lair and into the Chamber once again. All had gone according to plan. He felt confident as his feet hit the floor of the Chamber, he allowed them to carry him toward the exit, but stopped suddenly as the form of Harry Potter materialized before him. No, not materialized… was _revealed_, Potter had been following him under a disillusionment charm!

"What about that cloak of yours, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

"I'd rather not forget it here," Harry replied coldly. "So, is that why you took the job as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, to get this sword?"

"Yes." Malfoy stated simply, thoughts rising within him. He could possibly… Harry could help… but if it was Voldemort who removed the ward… the _he _knew….

"Then I have only one more question before I arrest you, because I already have suspicions of who you are working for. Why were you sent to retrieve this?"

"I don't know. Listen Potter, you can't arrest me! I had no choice in this matter, _he'll_ kill my—"

"That's quite enough!" Shrieked a terrible voice, Malfoy lost his grip on the emerald sword and his wand and he was sent flying backward. Both items clattered to the floor. Harry spun, wand at the ready, just as a feeling overtook him… no… more of a sense… magic… magic had been broken. His wards! Dumbledore's wards! Someone had destroyed them. He turned to face the perpetrators and was somewhat surprised, but not unnerved to see Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, Amycus and Alecto Carrow, Augustus Rookwood (whom he was slightly surprised was still living, though the paper had documented his escape from Azakaban, he'd been in there longer than the others), Yaxley, Avery, Macnair, and someone who he suspected was Nott.

"I knew the boy didn't have the stomach to do what he was commanded to." Bellatrix sneered, staring past Harry at Malfoy's crumpled form. "We've come in his stead. Hello Potter, you're all grown up."

"Nice to see you too," said Harry with angry sarcasm.

"We're not still in a rift because of Sirius now, are we?"

Harry could not help himself, he raised his wand—

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Bellatrix bellowed. Harry was forced to duck, over him, he could hear the whooshing sound of death as it missed its mark and sped back to make contact with the statue of Slytherin, sending chunks of stone in all directions.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk Potter. If Dumbledore were alive, he'd scold you about your temper." Alecto said as though he were a diligent pupil. Greyback chuckled.

"_Accio Sword!"_ Harry heard Bellatrix snap as he stood up. He watched as she handed the sword to Avery who immediately disappeared with a slight _pop_.

"You broke my wards." Harry hissed, aiming his wand at her yet again.

"You can take comfort in the fact that it was not easy, we spent several days perfecting it. You know, it was our original plan to let Malfoy retrieve the sword, but I suspected he didn't have the guts for it, honestly. So I elected to come and get it myself, should he run into opposition."

"Yourself? Why's that lot with you then?"

Bellatrix huffed at him venomously with a kind of sneer.

"What is the sword for?" Harry asked instead.

Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters roared in jubilant laughter.

"It's far too late now. It's gone and done with, Potter."

"In that case, I'll have to interrogate you all separately in a secure environment; you're under arrest, all of you."

Bellatrix shrieked with mad giggles.

"You cannot hope to defeat all of us singlehandedly." Greyback said.

"No," Harry conceded. He aimed his wand into the air and muttered a long, complex incantation. His ward was back, weaker than before, but it would serve. "But my staff members will."

"What—" Bellatrix attempted to apparate, but failed. She threw a look of fury at Harry and then turned to her comrades. "Go! Flee! We all must _be_ there, don't raise an alarm, just run! I'll hold off Potter!"

Several of them barked words of protest, but Bellatrix waved them away, they turned to run, find an exit. Malfoy sprang to his feet and retrieved his wand, angling it at his aunt.

"Go," Harry snapped.

"No, I'll help you, nothing matters now, I've already betrayed them." Malfoy replied.

Harry felt an odd sense of gratitude, but then realized he was quite furious with his new hire…. He could have _helped_ him with this matter, if Malfoy had only told him. It was obvious Draco did not willingly work for these Death Eaters; he was forced into it…. And suddenly the picture became clear. One word: spattergroit. A subtle hint, perhaps? Malfoy had said his family was ill with spattergroit. Ron, on their quest for the Horcruxs, had used a decoy to feign illness with spattergroit…. What if the Malfoy's were feigning illness, being held hostage in their own home by Draco's _other _employers? It all made sense.

"No," said Harry. "Go quickly, raise the alarm, make sure they don't escape."

"Potter—"

"If you really want to help me, prove it! Go!"

Malfoy cast a look at Bellatrix who stood with her arms crossed, an amused expression on her face, then he ran past her, ran after the Death Eaters, perhaps he would catch some with the help of the other Hogwarts professors. His aunt made no move to stop him, though Harry thought she would be wise to do so, the only reason she would not, however, was because of him, she obviously wanted to face him, perhaps to see how powerful he had become. He would help her in that matter.

"_Impendimenta!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

They cried in unison, jets of red and green collided, sending molten gold in all directions. Harry found it rather like the confrontation between himself and Voldemort so may years ago, though his and Bellatrix's wand did not connect. The Hogwarts headmaster stood there, putting all his strength behind the attack. Bellatrix was struggling.

In all his years as Head Auror, he had become a force to be reckoned with, and the Death Eater on the other side of his spell was beginning to realize it as his jinx drove back her curse to a point where the line between them was ninety percent red, ten percent green. The wand was now shaking in Bellatrix's hand, it looked as though it would snap any moment, both combatants knew that one had to let go.

So the Death Eater did.

She whipped her wand upward, breaking the curse; both spells flew past her, toward the end of the chamber.

Bellatrix sent a jet of purple light his way, a mere wave and it vanished from the air, he returned with a curse of his own which she knocked away like a weak blow from a sword.

"Excellent job, Potter, though I see you do not indulge in Unforgivable Curses." Bellatrix taunted.

"Look what happened to yours." Harry returned.

Bellatrix's mouth curled into snarl, she pulled back, and hurled forward, launching a jet of fire, thick as a basilisk his way. Harry gripped his weapon with both hands, and practically released a lake of water. If flew forward her in a tsunami wave, swallowing the fire, and its conjurer, Bellatrix, carrying her toward the wall, pinning her there. Harry kept the stream of water flowing at full power, sticking his enemy to the wall, and effectively beginning to drown her.

He could see her move behind the translucent veil of the water. She slashed her wand like a dagger once, but to no avail, once more, and a golden wave magic flew from the water, breaking Harry's concentration, he was forced to duck and allow the curse to fly over him. It hit the mouth of Salazar Slytherin's statue, and collapsed it with a fiery bang.

Harry did not have time to guess how nasty it might have been had the curse made contact with his face, however his enemy had launched another. This one he was ready for, he caught the curse with the tip of his wand, and threw it back at Bellatrix, it was a useful little counter he'd learned from Dumbledore's portrait, as strange as it sounded.

The Death Eater scowled and banished her curse from existence.

"Very good, Potter." Bellatrix snapped, shaking the water from her hair, she turned her own weapon upon herself and muttered an incantation, instantly she became dry.

"You're not all that bad either," Harry complemented, "though I would expect better from one trained by Voldemort himself."

Bellatrix's face contorted to a point where it was unrecognizable, and her form shook with rage, she drew her wand back like a wooden steak, ready to ram through the heart of an enemy.

"YOU DARE SPEAK HIS NAME! FILTHY HALF-BLOOD! _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Her aim was off, murdered by her rage, the Killing Curse missed Harry by a foot, giving him the chance to retort.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

She gasped as the wand flew from her grasp, and clattered to the stone floor. Seconds later she was on the ground, Harry's wand aimed at her throat.

"It's too late fore you, poor little Potter! Everything is lost now, Avery's already taken it!" Bellatrix cried.

"At least there's one victory here, you, arrested, and I'm sure my staff caught a fair share of your lot." Harry returned.

"You might as well just kill me now Potter! At least I die in serve to _my lord's_ cause!" The Death Eater snapped, laying a slightly romantic emphasis on the words 'my lord'.

"Voldemort is dead," said Harry. "His cause is lost."

Bellatrix shrieked with insane, girlish laughter. "No cause is lost, Potter, if there are those who are willing to fight for it! How depressing… sound's like Dumbledore's rubbish, don't you think?"

"Yes, it does, but we both know it's not rubbish; now, you're coming with me, straight to Azkaban."

"Kill me Potter! I won't talk, and you wouldn't dare stoop to my level… torture…no… poor, moral, itty, bitty, baby, Potter! Hahahahahaha!"

"Aren't we past such childish insults?"

"Dear little Potter has no return!"

"Stand up, let me see your hands."

Bellatrix smiled silkily and did so, exposing the faint mark on her forearm. Harry's eye caught it for a moment and it blacked and burned. The Dark Mark had been activated… and there was only one who called Death Eaters to his cause in such a manner. But it was not possible! It was utterly _impossible_! _He'd _been dead, dead for _years_! Harry knew, he had seen the last glimpse of icy, evil, cruel, malicious life in those terrible crimson eyes.

Bellatrix Lestrange tipped her head back and shrieked in the most insane, jubilant, joyous laughter Harry had ever had the misfortune to hear. Then her eyes met his for a single moment before she opened her lips once more and whispered,

"Goodbye, Potter."

Harry _felt _his ward, give way, and break once more. _Felt _it, in his bones, in his soul. He knew it; he knew it when the magic died, just as Dumbledore could trace it in that terrible cave. And… above all, he knew what the Death Eater before him was about to do.

She spun on the spot and apparated, Harry grabbed her arm as she disappeared; a familiar, crushing, suffocating darkness enveloped him once more.

_**I put off the next chapter of my other fic just to write this one. I couldn't help it, we're so close to the climax, I need to get it done! I have to write it, sadly, for my other fic, expect another update sooner than usual. I assume you know where Bellatrix is going? Anyway, the reason this chapter is great because... dun, dun, dun!... It leads into the next chapter (wtih a great cliff hanger) where all shall be revealed... maybe not ALL, but most anyway. Well... that's all, except, if you are very kind, you might click the review button and just type something...**_


	14. The Last Horcrux

_Chapter 14: The Last Horcrux_

Harry was taken back to his teenage years, remembering his side-long trips with Dumbledore during aparation, this one was no different, except for the fact that Bellatrix was wildly trying to rid herself of his steel grip on her arm. He would not let go, he could not, despite the fact it felt as though he was being squeezed through a narrow tube, unable to move, unable to breathe, he could no longer bear it. He was so unused to the sensation of side-apparition, having not experienced it in _years_, that he could not hold on. His fingers began to uncoil themselves from Bellatrix's arm; he was so close to letting go… so close… he was hanging, literally by the tips of his fingers. He could not breathe!

No! No! _No_! He _had _to know, he had to _see _for himself in order to believe it, what _she _had said…. It could not be true! Harry knew he would never find out… he would die… now.

Cold night air filled his lungs to capacity, he felt as though they would burst. Harry coughed and sputtered and shivered…. He was lying in half a foot of snow.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _

The voice rang out in the night, echoing…. Harry was unable to move, only stare, at a starless, black sky. He felt himself lifting away from the snowy ground, suspended by the light grip of magic. He was vaguely aware of Bellatix trudging through the snow beside him, and aware of his own movement through the air, slow and ponderous.

A feeling of dread awakened within him, as he heard old, iron gates creak, and stall slightly, unable to push away the blanket of snow. He sensed his own body float over the rusted spikes of an iron fence, and heard the gates slam shut behind him.

For the next few minutes, the only sound audible was the harsh breathing of Bellatrix who seemed to be muttering under her breath madly. Good. This must not have been the plan, at least, no matter what was about to come, he had the satisfaction of infuriating the woman that killed his godfather so long ago.

Suddenly, he was falling, no, flying, and the breath was knocked from his lungs as his back hit the rough surface of a tree trunk. Harry slid down it, and was presented a great view, all was clear now in his eyes. Malfoy Manor. That is where he sat, and before him stood a circle of robed figures, several of whom looked quite harassed, and bore subtle scarring of recent battle. He saw Bellatrix join them, it was then that he noticed two things.

Narcissa, Lucius, and Scorpious Malfoy stood along with the group of Death Eaters, completely fine, with no trace of spattergroit. He did not know why, but it felt like a slap across the face, how could he have been so stupid?! Why did he not send a search party to this place? Follow his instincts? Once more, his suspicions were confirmed. Never, ever again would he make such a judgment error. Perhaps Rita Skeeter was right, Umbridge too, perhaps they had all been completely correct in their harsh, cold attacks on him. Even Percy had had doubts… he was a terrible Head Auror.

No!

He could not dwell upon these depressing, morale crushing thoughts, not here, not _now_.

Harry felt a strange sensation fall over his body, he was able to move! Able to—

A twisting coil of rope constricted itself around him, binding him to the tree, it was only then he became aware he had been holding his wand, which was now embedded in the snow, far from his reach. Bellatrix giggled hysterically and threw a taunt his way. All eyes were upon him for a moment.

Harry heard their words, but they did not register in his mind, for it had been revealed what they stood around, a massive, iron, cauldron, crimson fire burning bright beneath it, smoke billowing from its top. Suddenly, for a moment, the yard of Malfoy Manor disappeared, replaced by a graveyard, a flash of green, Cedric Diggory's eyes, Wormtail, that smoking cauldron, the crimson stare of Lord—

"Good," said a voice. A cold, terrible, silky voice… but it had not come from the lips of a man with slits for nostrils, a bald head, and scarlet eyes, no. It had come from Lucius Malfoy…whose eyes…. Harry suddenly knew why the Death Eaters had converged _here_, why Malfoy was forced to follow their bidding. What was left of Lord Voldemort had taken possession of Lucius Malfoy.

"Good," said the Dark Lord. "Harry Potter, you've grown so much since I last saw you. I'm glad you're here to see this. I'll be with you in a moment."

Harry could not find the voice to retort. All he could do was watch as Bellatrix seized a handful of Narcissa's hair, snatched a long, silver blade from the unmistakable hand of Fenrir Greyback, and swept it across her sister's arm. Even from his position, several yards away, Harry could see her blood in the firelight, it dripped into the cauldron which belched a mushroom cloud of scarlet smoke. Bellatrix shoved her sister to the ground, raised her hands above her head, and recited, with great passion, something Harry hoped he would never hear again:

"Blood of the servant, unwillingly given! You shall revive your former master."

Harry observed as Lucius, no, Voldemort, stepped forward. This was different, perhaps, not a different potion, but the order of the ingredients was different… something else was happening here.

The sound of a sickening, sucking, bloodcurdling crack filled the air and Lucius… Voldemort, hissed in pain as… the bones from his hand were _removed_… by the wand of Bellatrix. She held them for a moment, suspended above the smoking pot, before breaking the spell and sending them in.

"Bone of the betrayer, unknowingly given! You shall revive your foe!"

And then, Bellatrix extended her own hand forth, above the smoke, and raised the knife.

"Flesh of the _servant_! Willingly _presented_, you shall revive _your _lord!" Bellatrix shrieked as though to a lover. Harry winced as she, in one swift stroke, severed her hand, and allowed it to fall in the cauldron. The Death Eater fell to the ground, clutching a bloody stump, she whimpered quietly, all the while muttering insane praise in the name of Lord Voldemort.

But all was not finished.

Fenrir Greyback stepped forward, the sword in his hands.

"Flesh, blood, and bone!" the werewolf growled. "They shall create the body of the Dark Lord! This… shall rebuild his soul."

Bellatrix stood once more, and with her remaining hand, waved her wand over the emerald sword, reciting a long, twisting, harsh incantation. It shook violently, threatening to slice the flesh of Greyback's hands, its silver color was replaced by a glowing green and the werewolf let it fall into the cauldron, causing the potion within the erupt in emerald smoke and belch a ringing boom. Then, a hand fell upon Fenrir Greyback's shoulder, and shoved him aside, Lucius Malfoy stepped toward the smoking potion and peered in, the green glow cast an eerie light upon his face, melting he features… transfiguring them into the shadow of a likeness… the face of Voldemort. The dead man's lips curled back in an evil sneer… he fell… _fell_, into the cauldron, which exploded into large fragments of metal, miraculously, not one hit a Death Eater, nor Harry.

Where the black cauldron had once stood, now was a large column of oily, green and black smoke. The cloaked, Dark Wizards bowed before it, Harry's heart was beating, beating so quickly that it almost hurt. This was _it_. This was the _reason_, for everything…. This was impossible! It must be an illusion, it must be….

It was not.

As the smoke began to fade, the outline of a cloaked figure began to gradually appear within its remaining haze. It was a man… and its features became more and more pronounced as the lingering green and black mist cleared, and there he stood….

_The_ Dark Wizard. He had the complexion of snow, and bore a heart just as cold, his head was bald, his nose was nonexistent, just two serpent-like slits for nostrils, and his eyes were a striking crimson. He was Lord Voldemort.

"_My Lord," _squeaked a pathetic, feminine voice. Harry watched as the Dark Lord kneeled before his kneeling servant, and he lifted Bellatrix's chin.

"You… have done well; your record is no longer tarnished for the part you unwillingly played in my death, allowing the _item _to be stolen. Rise, my dear Bellatrix."

Voldemort stood, and so did _she_, her face contorted with a disturbing kind of passion, the likes of which Harry had never seen, nor could he stomach.

"Now, your hand," the Dark Lord ordered.

"Thank you_ my _lord!" Bellatrix whispered.

"Your wand," said Voldemort. His servant presented him with it, and he waved it, conjuring Bellatrix a new hand that was as silver as the dagger she had used to slice it off.

Bellatrix kissed it as though it were a child and thanked Lord Voldemort with great passion before he gave her wand back.

The Dark Lord ordered all of his servants to stand; and congratulated them all, for he was back! Their glorious quest was at a new beginning.

It was then that those blood red eyes fell upon Harry, immobile, bound to a tree. Voldemort seemed to glide towards him, his robes black as midnight, flowing like silky mist behind him.

"Harry Potter," said Lord Voldemort. "The boy who lived… _twice_…. And now, here we stand, you and me, two grown men, perhaps this time you will not be so fortunate…. Ah… you still fear…."

"I do _not _fear you!" Harry spat.

Voldemort chuckled, and his Death Eaters erupted in a chorus of laughter.

"Then time has made you a fool, Harry Potter," said the Dark Lord. "Everyone should fear Lord Voldemort, for I have returned for a third and final time."

"Because this time, you'll die, completely." Harry retorted.

"Quite the opposite, actually, this time, I shall live… forever. No longer shall I seek the Deathly Hallows; no longer shall I rely solely on Horcruxes…."

"Horcruxes," Harry spat. "A tool of the weak!"

"Did Dumbledore's portrait tell you that?" Voldemort returned, causing Bellatrix to giggle hysterically.

"Face it, _Tom_, there is no way to gain immortality."

"You dare speak that name to me? Lord Voldemort! I-- but no… no… I shall not kill you, _yet_, dear Harry. I'm sure you are dying with anticipation for me to tell you… how I returned."

"You were a bit unclear on that, yeah." Harry snapped, his fear quickly dissipating into the cold night air. He was no longer a child.

"It's a fascinating tale!" Voldemort exclaimed. "You see, when I tried to kill you, I made the mistake of believing that I was master of the Elder Wand. So, when my own curse rebounded upon me, a curious event occurred. It split my soul, one final time, the larger portion of it died with my body, but the weaker attached itself to Lucius Malfoy. My consciousness then remained with the dead fragment of my soul for years, in a field between life and death, I knew I had constructed another Horcrux, and thus I was unsure why I was not able to return with it…. Then I realized, I have never completely died! I found a way to take control of Lucius's body, and I destroyed his soul, but I was not strong enough to gain my own body with the resurrection I potion that I used when I initially returned at my father's old manor.

"I was weak, my soul was wounded. So, I had to rejoin it with a stronger, larger part of myself, the part I put into the sword. Unfortunately, this was a… peculiar resurrection, and the sword of my great ancestor Salazar Slythterin is gone, forever, but it is not all a loss, for Lord Voldemort has returned to the world!"

"And how did you manage to construct another Horcrux?" Harry inquired.

"Ah yes…. I myself must admit, it was no simple feat, my soul was torn, I realized, and splitting it again could be… a destructive idea. But I did it, with the murder of Gellert Grindelwald! I then transferred that piece of my soul into the sword of my ancestor that I had so recently acquired, and entrusted it to Amycus to place within the Chamber of Secrets when I returned to Hogwarts to retrieve the Elder Wand."

"Why Amycus?"

"Why? Because, I had a feeling… call it a premonition if you will, Harry. I thought, perhaps, Snape might have had control over the wand, thus, I believed he might turn on me if he knew I was looking to take it, perhaps he would destroy the sword…."

"Very smart of you."

"Yes, it was indeed, Harry. However I have no praise for you, most especially if the Skeeter woman is right."

The Death Eaters roared with laughter, Harry noticed Narcissa, Draco's wife Pansy, and his son Scorpious in the background, held captive by two grim looking servants of the Dark Lord.

"Now, I believe I have answered all of your questions."

"Yes. We have nothing more to discuss."

"I concur," said Voldemort. "However…. There is something I must deal with. Where is my wand?"

"Your old wand is gone, my lord." Bellatrix said apologetically, however, she held out a dark piece of wood to her master. "This is the wand of Lucius Malfoy, which you won, my Lord, by killing him, but you know that."

"Yes, of course I do. This shall be wonderful, more than satisfactory. Now, where is our trusted servant Draco?"

"He nearly betrayed us _my _lord, to Potter." Bellatrix announced, spitting out Harry's name as though it were an unpleasant drink. "_I _stopped him."

"Our accord is no longer valid," said Voldemort. He made a gesture with one of his long, chalk white hands. The Death Eaters converged upon Narcissa, retrieving her from the hold of the two brutes, and throwing her to her knees in the snow before the Dark Lord.

"You cannot do this!" Narcissa cried, tears falling from her cheeks. She held her bleeding arm with her other hand.

"Oh, but I can. I shall kill you, and your son's bride… and your grandson." Voldemort stated, smiling coldly.

"No!" Pansy Parkinson Malfoy screamed. "You will not have my son!"

"Shut up," snapped a Death Eater restraining her, he slapped the woman to the ground.

"Those who side with betrayers of Lord Voldemort must pay the ultimate price," said the Dark Lord, angling his wand at Narcissa Malfoy's neck.

"Take me then! Take only me!" The woman pleaded. "Do not take my grandson, or his mother!"

"There is no deal to be made here," Voldemort sneered, flicking his wand he cried, _"Crucio!"_

Narcissa's screams pierced through the night, echoing in the air. She convulsed wildly upon the ground, tearing at snow, kicking at air. Scorpious Malfoy's sobs were audible; Pansy Parkinson's were not, though her voice was.

"STOP!" The wife of Draco bellowed.

"_Crucio!"_ Voldemort hissed, ending Narcissa's torture.

"And now, Narcissa Malfoy, bid your family farewell."

"Grandmother!" Scorpious cried, before a Death Eater smacked him to the ground, Pansy screeched in protest, attempting to force her captor to release his hold, the servant of the Dark Lord, however, did not.

"Let this stand as another of example of what happens when someone dare betrays Lord Voldemort!"

"Wait!" Bellatrix cried as the Dark Lord drew his wand back, preparing for the kill. The crimson eyes of Voldemort flicked to her incredulously, though without anger… yet.

"Let me kill her, my lord! It would be an honor, such an honor to serve you, in your true form… again. Please, my lord, I beg of you!"

"No," Voldemort replied simply. "They all die by my hand."

"Very well," said Bellatrix, with an air of disappointment.

Narcissa's eyes met Lord Voldemorts, and the both of them smiled lightly. Harry watched, from his bound position against the cold, rough bark of the tree, as the wand of the Dark Lord was aimed right between the woman's eyes. A tear fell down Narcissa's cheek, but her smile did not waver.

"This is a great honor, dear Narcissa," hissed Voldemort. "Have you any last words before you go to join your husband?"

"I'll torment you, if you kill my grandson, I'll torment you, I swear I—"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Narcissa's eyes rolled into her skull, she remained in her kneeled position for several, drawn out moments, before crashing, face first, into the freezing snow. Scorpious Malfoy's incoherent screams rang through the air, before a Death Eater's hand contacted with his temple, sending him into the snow as well, he did not stand up. Pansy Parkinson Malfoy was thrown before the Dark Lord now. She wore a defiant expression on her face as Lord Voldemort's wand angled toward her head.

"Wife of Draco," Voldemort whispered. _"Crucio!"_

Harry shut his eyes for a moment, blocking out the sight of the soon to be dead woman convulsing in agony, cutting through snow, hands and legs making contact with her mother-in-law's lifeless, cold corpse. Her screams pierced the air, reverberating off the large manor in the distance. None of the commotion aroused the motionless child, lying in the snow near two cloaked Death Eaters. Harry tasted bile at the sight of him, Voldemort would pay for what he'd done, and he vowed to not let that boy die, he must save Pansy as well!

He must break free of his bindings!

If only he could focus his magic enough to cut through the ropes… focus… focus….

"_Crucio!"_

All was quiet now, save for the harsh, ragged breathing of Draco's bride.

"My dear Mrs. Malfoy, Lord Voldemort admires your composure, after such torture," said the Dark Lord.

Pansy, now on her knees, spat at the hem of her tormentor's robes. Harry watched in a mix of grief and horror, it was nearly time, he could _sense _it, any second… he must focus! He must break free! The Head Auror shut his eyes tightly, concentrating.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The words echoed in the cold night, and Harry saw the flash of green, even through his tightly closed eyelids, the muffled thump did not break his concentration. He must be free, he must be free!

"Where is the son of Draco? Bring him to me! Let us show the world what happens to _all_ who cross Lord Voldemort! Let us show the world that their families are not safe, that they are not safe from my wrath!"

Harry would not have it! Voldemort would not execute a child! There would be only one more death here tonight, the death of the Dark Lord! Harry felt it then, the magic, under his control, his head screamed the incantation! He opened his eyes as the ropes tore away, a surgical slice cut by an invisible blade severing them. In a single movement, the Head Auror lurched forward, grabbed his wand, and stood tall, facing Voldemort, wand aimed at the Dark Lord's chest.

"You will not kill a child!" Harry spat through gritted teeth. "Most especially one of my students!"

Voldemort turned his wand upon the Headmaster of Hogwarts School, as did every other Death Eater, the little boy, unconscious, half submerged in snow was banished from their minds, just the way it needed to be.

"Excellent job, Harry," the Dark Lord commended. "I suppose it is only right that you earned the position of head Auror."

"Let's kill him! Let me rip out his throat! Let me eat his liver, I'm in the mood for meat tonight!" Greyback announced.

"Dumby's man through and through, let's kill Potty Potter, let us, my lord! Let us destroy him!" Alecto Carrow pleaded.

"_I _shall do it, my _great_ lord! Allow me the pleasure of serving you!" Bellatrix cried.

"No!" Voldemort snapped. "No! Away, away, I will take care of Potter! No one will intervene!"

The Death Eaters grumbled and pulled back to a better viewing position, several yards away from the two wizards, Harry glanced at Scorpious who was far out of the way as well.

"You cannot win, Harry Potter," said the Dark Lord quietly. "I know magic that even Dumbledore could not hope to comprehend, and who are you, but a Headmaster, a Head Auror, I am more powerful."

"That may be so, but I'm willing to take my chances."

"Then you are a fool!"

"No, you are, that's right, because in every encounter we've had, I've won."

"Yes, but this time it is the power of Lord Voldemort matched against Harry Potter, _only _Harry Potter. You forget, you no longer have a connection to me, your scar is now nothing but… a scar. And, this time, you are not master of the wand I possess."

"You're right; I guess it's come down to a fair contest then."

"Indeed, you realize now that I shall achieve the upper hand, and you shall die."

"Not really, one thing I've learned from being an Auror is that the one who takes the first shot usually wins."

Voldemort began his incantation in unison with Harry; however, the Head Auror was faster. The Dark Lord was forced to leap out of the way as a giant wave of fire shot his way.

Harry threw another curse before his opponent could return with a spell of his own, Voldemort halted it in mid air, and tossed it aside like a worthless stone, the Dark Lord then retorted by conjuring up uncountable spikes of black ice, and launching them at Harry. The headmaster summoned a wall of energy, a mixture of the Protego Charm, and something of Harry's own invention which dissolved the ice in mid air, and flew straight for Voldemort.

A massive brick wall stopped it, and the bricks shattered. Harry ducked as the jagged pieces, speeding as fast as muggle bullets flew for him. They overshot him, and he glanced up in time to see a wall of water about to crash upon him, from his downed position, he launched a golden disk of magic at his enemy, Voldemort was forced to let go of the wall of water (which Harry immediately froze in mid air) as he deflected the curse.

The Head Auror caught the massive chunk of ice as it fell with a simple levitation charm, and then launched it with all his power at the Dark Lord. Voldemort's eyes widened, he spun on the spot and vanished. The massive projectile of frozen water smashed through the walls of Malfoy Manor, inflicting untold amounts of damage upon the structure—

Harry could not react fast enough, a slight _pop_ behind him, and then the wind rushing at his face. He was flying through the air; he hit the snow face first, and rolled, missing a jet of green light by chance. Potter stood, turning to face Voldemort who now stood several yards away. Both opponents waited for the other to make a move….

Moments of utter stillness passed, everything was silent; there was nothing, no wind—

Harry moved first, creating a dagger of silver, and launching it at Voldemort who transfigured it into a flock of bats, sending them back at Potter. The Head Auror angled his wand forward and bellowed an incantation in his head, the bats drew toward one another like magnets, forming a dark blob of moving creatures which melted into one another, morphing into a statue made of white marble, clutching an iron mace, Harry gave life to the stone warrior with a complex animation charm and sent charging at his enemy.

Voldemort conjured up a statue of his own, this one made of black obsidian, wielding a silver sword. As they clashed, Potter shot off a well aimed spell, combining them both together and transfiguring them into an unnaturally large bear which roared furiously, and launched itself at the Dark Lord courageously.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The bear fell and faded into the snow.

"_Incendio!" _ Harry cried, launching a jet of fire at his enemy.

The foe retorted with a jet of water, both elements clashed in mid air and completely removed one another from existence.

Voldemort waved his wand, magicking a boulder into existence.

"_Confringo!" _Harry bellowed.

The massive rock exploded in mid air, sending stone flak in every direction. Voldemort extended his arms and roared into the night, shattering the pieces of rock into grains of sand.

Harry scowled, his frustration building. He must cast something powerful, undefeatable, something unexpected!

"_CRUCIO!" _Potter bellowed, willing all his anger to torture Lord Voldemort until he was dead, anger for the death of his parents, for Sirius, for Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, everyone the Dark Lord or his servants had ever murdered! However, the curse never made contact, Voldemort vanished….

Harry growled in fury and spun, searching. Where was he? He must return! He must!

He did.

Not two feet in front of Harry, Voldemort reappeared, within punching distance.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The incantation came not from Harry, but from the Dark Lord. The Head Auror was unable to resist, and he back stepped in horror, falling to the ground as his weapon left him. Voldemort stood over him for a moment, stroking his wand as though he were sharpening a blade. In an instant, it was angled at Harry's heart.

"_Avada…"_

With the delivery of the next word, Harry Potter would be dead.

_**XxX**_

_**Muhahahahahahahahahaha! Another evil cliff hanger. I hope you enjoyed the battle, and the resurrection of Voldemort. I have no idea how that would work… but I think I did it well enough… Anyway, and THE FOLLOWING IS VERY IMPORTANT, there are two ways to end this. The first and crappier way is to not do a sequel, and solve all problems now. The second, and better way is to write a sequel, a book 9, essentially, there are definite items to work with, first of all, the Felix Felicis Albus got should come in, also, Draco's betrayal of Voldemort… the debt, as you say, was paid, but obviously Draco wont be happy. Also, Harry's future as Head Auror and Headmaster, plus how the wizarding world would react to Voldemort's return a second time (NOT the way in OOTP, I promise). We all know Voldemort will want revenge on Harry as well, plus there's that entire take over the wizarding and muggle world thing (that I'd love to write)…. So, what say you, readers? Will you join me for a sequel, or not? Vote now! Review! **_


	15. The Beginning of a Secret Third War

_**Hahahaha! That's probably the best comment I've received so far, Nerio, I believe, however, that "The Last Horcrux" is slightly more artistic than **__**"What JKR Would Have Done if She Had Not Wanted to Have a Horribly, Cliche Ending." Of course I'm not going to down JKR's work, Deathly Hallows was the best of all HP books I think, and I did want Voldemort and Harry to fight at the end, the only things I have to really say that I wish were different about DH are Harry and Hermione would have been nice instead of Harry/Ginny, she should not have killed Bellatrix, and there should have been a huge confrontation between Voldemort and Harry, but oh well. Fan fiction! However, I must point out that this is tragically similar to GOF, the general idea of this scene, sorry, this is my first time writing a full length HP fic, I guarantee you, the sequel will be… not like GOF. Yes, that means I shall do a sequel, not enjoy the follow up to my evil cliff hanger, and did I mention this is the LAST CHAPTER OF THIS FIC? It is (notice I put things in caps to get people's attention) so enjoy that as well, and yes, I WILL BE DOING A SEQUEL so put me on your alerts list.**_

_Chapter 15: The Beginning of a Secret Third War_

"… _Kedavra!" _

Harry rolled to the right, grabbing his weapon as his stomach made contact with the snowy earth. The ground beside him exploded, spraying a shrapnel cocktail of dirty, rocks, and snow in all directions, as the Killing Curse hit it. Lord Voldemort was left shocked for all of two seconds as he watched Potter dodge the spell. By this time, Harry was on his feet, facing his opponent. He caught the Dark Lord in mid turn, a new spell upon Voldemort's lips. Harry beat him to a different incantation.

"_Impendimenta!" _

A spell that had been with him since Hogwarts, so simple a dueling jinx, yet so effective, it caused a rarity, hardly ever seen. An opponent's jinx made contact with the Dark Lord Voldemort, sending him flying backwards. Harry watched as he flew through the air, toward the group of floored Death Eaters. Potter took the opening they presented; his only goal was to save Scorpious Malfoy. Nothing else mattered here, for even if he managed to defeat Voldemort, or kill him, which could likely happen if struck the man when he was down, the Death Eaters would still be there, still need to be dealt with.

The continuation of a duel in this situation would result in only one outcome. Defeat, for him, for Harry, he had to escape immediately.

Potter ran for the unconscious form of Scorpious Malfoy, keeping his eyes and wand aimed at the Death Eaters he shouted: _"Incendio!"_ just before reaching the boy. A massive explosion of fire erupted from the tip of his wand, and flew toward the unsuspecting Death Eaters and Voldemort who had just landed on the ground. Harry did not stick around to see what might happen, he grabbed Scorpious Malfoy's cold arm and concentrated solely on Hogwarts, anywhere, just within the grounds…. He closed his eyes as darkness engulfed him.

When they opened, the sight of a completely filled Great Hall greeted them. Harry stood up, realizing he was just in front of the staff table, and McGonagall was standing at his podium in mid speech. Students clad in night apparel occupied the house tables, all eyes were on him, including McGonagall who looked harassed and had a long burn mark across her arm. Many bore signs of a recent struggle.

Harry simply stood there for a moment, digesting all that had happened. Trying to find the words to speak, catch his breath. The complete silence seemed to ring in his ears before it was finally broken by the voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Potter, my son…."

Harry was aware of Draco kneeling before him to retrieve his unconscious child. His newest, semi-traitorous hire rose then, and Harry looked at him.

"Poppy," he called quietly. The elderly Madame Pomfrey appeared behind him.

"Take him to the hospital wing, he suffered trauma to his temple, he's unconscious. Have Professor Sinistra help you."

Malfoy gave his son to Aurora Sinistra and Madame Pomfrey, allowing them to carry him off to the hospital wing where he would likely join several more injured students. Harry told Malfoy to remain here for a now, not sure why he wished that. He was still attempting to quiet his racing mind before giving any instructions, before opening his mouth again. Finally someone asked it:

"Professor Potter, what happened?"

It was McGonagall. Harry was drawn from his mind, back into the world, things became clear again, he knew what to do.

"Prefects," Harry began loudly. "Will escort everyone from their house back to their dormitories where they will all remain until breakfast tomorrow."

There was a rush of movement, not one student disobeyed and they all began to file out of the Great Hall. Harry turned to the staff table and began to hand out his instructions for them.

"Hagrid, Neville, Slughorn, ensure the students get back to their dormitories safely. Trelawney, Oakden, Babbling, you know the incantations, start building up wards again immediately, I'll assist when I'm ready. Hermione… go to my office, send Everard to his portrait in the Ministry quickly, relay these orders to the Auror Office from me, they are to send a team to Malfoy Manor and to search the place, be prepared for battle, but I doubt they will have to face it. Nothing is to be overlooked, and they will likely find two bodies there. Send word to the Minister that he should meet me in my office immediately, use the floo network, the wards on it are still undamaged and I will lift them for my office. Ron, Minerva, escort Draco to my office. I need to speak with him. I'm going to check with Hagrid to make sure the students arrived at their dormitories safely, and then I'll go to my office. Hurry, we must do this as quickly as possible."

Harry exited behind the flow of remaining stragglers and set of briskly to find Hagrid. He nearly feinted when a voice sounded from seemingly nowhere and even more so because the voice was of his daughter Lily.

"Dad?"

"Lily," Harry said unsure of what tone to use. "You're supposed to go to the Gryffindor Tower, it's extremely important."

"But, dad…"

"Yes?"

"I want to know… where you were… what happened. I was… scared. I heard older kids talking about people in the castle, the older kids said they fought with the people."

"Yes, Lily, there were some very bad people in the castle tonight. They are gone now, you needn't worry, now please go up to your common room. If your mother was hear she's have a coronary."

"If the bad people are gone, why do we have to hide?" Lily inquired. Harry sighed, why did his daughter have to be inquisitive, she was like her mother.

"You're not hiding, dear." Harry said patiently. "Its five o'clock in the morning, you need to go to bed."

"Ms. Potter!" A prefect's voice shrieked, a sixth year body with dark black hair and bushy eyebrows rounded the corner, looking harassed and very stern. "Why are you… oh, sorry headmaster, I didn't realize—"

Harry raised a hand to stop him.

"It's fine, make sure she gets to the common room."

"I will sir."

"Have you seen Hagrid?"

"In the Grand Staircase."

Harry nodded and made off ahead of them for the location the prefect had specified. He strode quickly onto the first landing of the huge tower of staircases and started up the first one, directly in front of him. His irritation began to surface as the stairs began to move. First he'd nearly been killed, and now he was being prevented from accomplishing vital goals in a timely fashion.

After an eternity, Harry disembarked the irritating set of stairs and started up another. He was level with the third floor when he finally found Hagrid who was inspecting the entire tower warily.

"Hagrid!" Harry cried.

"Harry—er… Headmaster! What's goin' on, Harry—Headmaster—what happened to—"

"Hagrid, have all the students been taken to their common rooms?"

"Yeah, I reckon so, Slughorn'n Neville are seeing to the rest of 'em."

"Good, I need to get to my office."

"I'll come with yeh, if that's alrigh', I want to know what happened."

"You're going to find out then," Harry said in agreement for Hagrid's accompaniment. They started off at a breakneck pace for the Headmaster's office, and were slightly out of breath when they reached the gargoyle that protected the entrance.

"Snape," Harry said, causing it to jump aside.

"Snape?" Hagrid muttered under his breath as they stood upon the escalating, winding staircase which took at least seven eternities to finally reach the wooden door. Harry threw it open and strode into his office, the sight of Malfoy, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, Minister Percy Weasley, and several of his Aurors greeted him. The headmaster turned, aimed his wand around Hagrid, and shut the door, simultaneously casting a useful security charm that prevented eavesdroppers from listening in on private conversations, strangely enough, Dumbledore had not often used one.

Harry glanced at the late headmaster's portrait, it was empty.

He sighed, sat down, and offered them all seats, conjuring enough to meet the needs out of the air, and an extra large one for Hagrid. Once they were comfortably, though somewhat claustrophobically settled in, Harry opened his mouth to begin, Percy beat him to it.

"What the bloody _hell_ is going on tonight here, Potter?"

Harry did not care about Percy's lack of respect, he was just as frustrated, agitated, and worried as the rest of them, the only difference was that he had the facts, the solid, concrete reason to worry….

"First of all, we need to start with the real source here," Harry began. "Malfoy. He knows much more than I do, I was just going to get around to questioning him, that's why I called you here."

"I don't understand." Percy replied.

"Neither do I, not completely," Harry admitted. "That's why we're turning to Malfoy."

"My family first, Potter." Malfoy stated out of nowhere.

"What?" Harry asked.

"My family, where are they, what happened to them?"

The current headmaster sighed sadly over the feigned snores of the portraits of previous dead headmasters; he looked down and closed his eyes. It was a long time before he reverted them to a subtly grief looking Malfoy.

"They're dead, I couldn't help them, I could only get your son…. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Potter…. Sorry for what I've done, and that this is my fault…. I should have told you from the beginning, you could have helped me, I see that now… there was nothing else I could do…."

"You did it to save them, then?" Harry asked, ignoring the frustrated and confused stares of the officials surrounding him, as well as those of his friends and staff.

"I'm sorry then… terribly sorry there was nothing I can do. I swear that you won't be punished for your part in this."

"Part in _what_?" Percy hissed in exasperation. Harry ignored him.

"Did you hear anything from _him_?" The headmaster asked his newest hire. "Did you hear a plan?"

"No…" Malfoy trailed off. "Only about his plans to kill my family… he did. I swear I'll—"

"Excuse me, but I want to know what the bloody rotting hell is going on here at this instant!" Percy barked, soundly very much like Mrs. Weasley while she scolded Fred or George.

"It happened, that's what," Harry said shortly.

"_What_ happened?"

"Something everyone here undoubtedly thought was impossible."

"For the sake of Merlin, Potter, spit it out!" The Minister exclaimed.

"He's returned."

Percy reared back in his chair, and gripped the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Who's back?"

"Lord Voldemort."

All non former Order of the Phoenix members winced at the sound of this, including Hagrid and Percy, the lot simply looked astonished, save for Malfoy who seemed to be in a grief stricken world of his own.

"_Are you barking mad?!" _The Minister hissed disbelievingly. "He could NOT have returned!"

"I saw it with my own eyes, I fought him, he's back."

"You fought—Harry… be realistic—I… you don't have any evidence—"

"My word's not good enough?! Percy, you should know better than that! You experienced it first hand!"

"If you're referring to the time he returned so many years ago… I was—"

"Afraid? Like you are now? Afraid to accept it? We should _all _be afraid, Minister. He's back, and he's powerful."

"I… I don't know what to make of you anymore, Potter." Percy said in a hushed whisper.

"Then, I suggest you be so kind as to allow me to interject some advice," said a calm, collected voice behind them. Harry spun and stood in one swift movement that pained his back to see Albus Dumbledore, occupying his portrait, smiling lightly.

"I cannot believe this is coming from me, especially in this terrible time for Draco, but obviously he knows something about this situation. He and Headmaster Potter seem to agree with it. If you are truly unconvinced that _both _of their stories are true, then why not venture so far as to use Veritaserum. But, Minister, we both know that neither one is lying. After all, what would they gain? Even as a portrait I know what's going on in the wizarding world today, I must say, Rita Skeeter prints particularly nasty articles, and I cannot believe Dolores Umbridge is under your employment. Fabricating a lie such as this would only completely discredit Mr. Potter here, and the Malfoys have never been very popular in the public eye, sorry to say."

Percy shook his head and buried his face in his hands for a quick moment before regaining a hold of himself. He looked up into the bespectacled eyes of Dumbledore's portrait.

"You're right… there is no way this can be a lie… it's unbelievable, and the Auror Office did alert me of their search at Malfoy Manor, Potter. They did find two dead bodies there, but the rest of the place was deserted…. This is a terrible situation."

"I'm glad you are beginning to accept this, because it will not do to live in denial as Fudge did."

"You're right," Percy agreed. "However, the rest of the world must be kept in the dark, we will use the Auror Office to wage a secret war with Voldemort, it will begin at Malfoy Manor. The public must not be told… it will only incite panic, we will discover his plans, and we will fight him…."

"That is foolish," said Harry, after a prolonged moment of silence. "The wizarding world must be informed, they expect Voldemort's Death Eaters, but they must be prepared for him as well. You have to see that this will cause more harm than good in the end, especially when an event occurs that makes it undeniably clear that he is back."

"No, Potter! I am the Minister of Magic and I will not have it! I will not arouse public panic during my reign!"

"That is a foolish course of action, Minister," Dumbledore's portrait agreed with Harry.

"My decision stands, Dumbledore," Percy snapped. "We will fight Voldemort in secret, and Potter, Malfoy, you will not speak a word of this to the public. You'll make sure it does not get out."

"I'll keep my mouth shut then," said Harry angrily. "Since I suspect my job relies upon it! But I will exercise all of my power to find Voldemort and stop him…."

"We're done here for now then." Percy said.

"No," Harry disagreed.

"What?"

"My other position, here at Hogwarts, do you really think I should keep it with what has happened now?"

"The public is in favor of your keeping it, test scores are up, Potter, standards are up, you've got your students working well, that's why the _Prophet _has not said anything about it."

"Always trying to please the public in times of crisis, Percy, just like you always were a prat, sucking up to your teachers," Ron snapped.

"Ronald Weasley, even though you are my brother, I will have you ejected from your position here!"

"Silence, the both of you," said McGonagall tartly. "Let it be known that I do not agree on your pleasing the public stance either, Minister."

Percy looked like he did not know whether or not to retort. Everything was awkwardly silent for a moment, until Hermione spoke.

"Ridiculous."

"No, it's logical," Percy replied as though trying to convince himself. "You'll remain Headmaster here, Potter, it's your position as Head Auror that'll be quieted down."

"WHAT?!" Harry bellowed.

"You're not in favor with the public, and people will only begin to point fingers everywhere when things… start to get worse."

"This is rubbish, I—"

"I'm sorry," said Percy, cutting Harry off. "But I will remove you from your job if you continue to criticize me so rudely. Now, I'll take my leave now. We must all get some rest. Malfoy, you are hereby cleared of all charges, contingent upon your agreement that you will not speak of Voldemort's return openly, none of you will."

"Fine," said Malfoy, still in deep thought.

"And you'll remain here, so will your son." Harry said. "It's unsafe out there for the both of you."

Malfoy only nodded.

"Goodbye then, Potter," Percy said as he and his squad of ministry officials, as well as Aurors, approached the fire place and stepped into the roaring green flames one by one. Harry casted his floo network wards again as the last one disappeared into the fire. He dismissed his staff and gave them orders to check on one thing or another, whether it be on students, other staff members, or wards.

He sat down upon his chair as McGonagall's cloak disappeared behind the closing door.

"Harry?"

He'd nearly forgotten, the current headmaster turned his chair completely around with the use of magic, while still sitting upon it, to face the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked, feeling slightly awkward, he had not spoken with the portrait all this year, as its occupant had always been gone.

"Harry, I commend you for your stance against Percy, but we must not criticize him too harshly, despite the fact that his secrecy plan is ludicrous, and sadly, I suspect that it will result in his early resignation as Minister…. You've done well, Harry, I've been watching how you run this school, talking with other people in other portraits, and I must say I am very proud."

"Thank you sir."

"You're welcome Harry. But we must now realize, dark times are once again on the horizon. Our cause is still alive, which is tragic. I am no longer with you, so, Harry, I trust you will act in my stead. I can help you, but as the imprint of my former self I cannot hope to provide as much assistance as I could if I were still alive. I trust you, however, and during this third war, I am optimistic that we will take down Lord Voldemort again, Harry, it will be more difficult this time around, however. You lost your connection with Voldemort when he first died, and this time, it is you that must take my place, carefully planning everything as I did, or not. Every choice you make against Voldemort will be your choice, not mine. I planned for you last time, I assisted you to the best of my ability…. I'm confident, Harry, that you can stand as my replacement, I am confident you can defeat Lord Voldemort again… and that you learned from my past mistakes. I'll always be here to grant you advice, however."

"Thank you sir, I'll… do my best."

"And I am sure that your best will be more than enough, Harry. You have a long road ahead of you, I know that you will reach the end of it victoriously."

_**XxX**_

_**The end! To be continued of course…. I've got many plans for the next one… many things are going to fall apart for the Ministry, I can tell you that, and I'll all be because Percy did not alert the public and kept it secret, that'll be a major plot point, so will Draco and his son. Dumbledore's portrait will come in to play every now and again as well I think, and Albus still has use for that Felix Felicis…. Those are some of the things I can tell you now…. For later, put me on your alert list, and hopefully in a few weeks, possibly a month, I'll have the sequel up and started. Thank you for reading. **_

_**--Xarkun**_


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